THE  MODERN  STUDENT'S  LIBRARY 
AMERICAN  DIVISION 


AMERICAN 
BALLADS  AND  SONGS 


THE  MODERN 
STUDENT'S  LIBRARY 

EACH  VOLUME  EDITED  BY  A  LEADING 
AMERICAN  AUTHORITY 

This  series  is  composed  of  such  works  as 
are  conspicuous  in  the  province  of  literature 
for  their  enduring  influence.  Every  volume 
is  recognized  as  essential  to  a  liberal  edu 
cation  and  will  tend  to  infuse  a  love  for  true 
literature  and  an  appreciation  of  the  quali 
ties  which  cause  it  to  endure. 

A  descriptive  list  of  the  volumes  published  in 

this  series  appears  in  the  last  pages 

of  this  volume 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


THE  MODERN  STUDENT  S  LIBRARY 
AMERICAN  DIVISION 

AMERICAN 
BALLADS  AND  SONGS 


COLLECTED  AND  EDITED  BY 

LOUISE  POUND 

PROFESSOR    OF   THE    ENGLISH   LANGUAGE 
UNIVERSITY    OF   NEBRASKA 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  CHICAGO  BOSTON 


COPYRIGHT,  1922,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


TO 
H.  M.  BELDEN 


487302 


PREFACE 

This  anthology  is  intended  to  present  to  lovers  of 
traditional  song  such  selections  as  shall  illustrate  the 
main  classes  and  types  having  currency  in  English- 
speaking  North  America.  The  interest  attaching  to 
them  is  partly  literary,  partly  historical,  and  partly 
the  interest  of  folk-lore. 

The  choice  of  pieces  has  not  been  made  on  the  ground 
of  poetical  quality,  although  this  has  been  taken  into 
account.  The  aim  is  rather  to  display  the  typical 
songs  and  ballads  liked  by  the  people  and  lingering 
among  them.  The  arrangement  is  neither  chronologi 
cal  nor  regional  but  is  based  upon  type  of  material. 
Some  of  the  texts  are  printed  for  the  first  time  while 
others  have  appeared  in  various  places.  Occasionally 
variant  texts  have  been  introduced,  to  illustrate  the 
multiple  forms  which  may  be  assumed  by  a  single 
ballad.  In  a  few  instances,  where  it  seemed  to  have 
interest,  a  manuscript  version  is  reproduced  literatim. 
The  provenience  of  the  ballad  included  is  entered  in 
the  notes,  and — where  this  can  be  determined — the 
history  of  the  ballad  is  sketched.  But  an  effort  has 
been  made  not  to  burden  the  notes  with  great  detail 
or  abundant  comment,  since  the  purpose  of  the  an 
thology  is  literary  and  illustrative  rather  than  scholarly 
and  critical. 

The  collection  is  addressed  to  students  of  poetry  and 
lovers  of  folk-song  and  to  those  who  care  for  traditional 
pieces  as  social  documents  which  reflect  the  life  and 
traditions  of  those  who  preserve  them, 

vii 


viii  PREFACE 

The  editor  wishes  to  make  grateful  acknowledg 
ment  to  Professors  H.  M.  Belden,  Lowry  C.  Wimberly, 
Edwin  F.  Piper,  Reed  Smith  and  others,  who  have 
assisted  her  in  various  ways,  especially  by  sending  her 
desirable  texts.  Thanks  are  due  to  the  Macmillan 
Publishing  Company  for  permission  to  reprint  four  or 
five  texts  from  the  Cowboy  Songs  of  John  A.  Lomax, 
to  the  H.  W.  Gray  Company  for  permission  to  print 
a  text  from  Miss  Loraine  Wyman  and  Howard  Brock- 
way's  Lonesome  Tunes,  to  Boosey  and  Company  for 
two  texts  from  Miss  Josephine  McGilTs  Folk  Songs 
of  the  Kentucky  Mountains,  to  the  Princeton  University 
Press  for  a  text  from  W.  Roy  Mackenzie's  The  Quest  of 
the  Ballad,  and  to  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons  for  the  reprinting 
of  several  texts  from  Mrs.  Campbell's  and  Cecil  J. 
Sharp's  English  Folk  Songs  from  the  Southern  Appa 
lachians.  The  editor  is  indebted  for  the  suggestion 
that  she  make  an  anthology  of  American  folk-song  to 
Mr.  Carl  Van  Doren. 

LOUISE  POUND. 

University  of  Nebraska. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

ENGLISH  AND  SCOTTISH  BALLADS  IN  AMERICA 

1.  JOHNNY  RANDALL 3 

2.  LORD  LOVEL     .         4 

3.  BARBARA  ALLEN 7 

4.  THE  Two  SISTERS 11. 

5.  THE  JEWISH  LADY tfO 

6.  THE  WIFE  WRAPT  IN  WETHER'S  SKIN       .      .      .      .16 

7.  CHILDREN'S  SONG ....   18 

8.  THE  CRUEL  BROTHER 21 

9.  EDWARD 

10.  THE  LOWLANDS  Low 

11.  THREE  SAILOR  BOYS 26 

12.  LORD  THOMAS 27 

13.  THE  HANGMAN'S  SONG 31 

14.  LORD  BAYHAM 33 

15.  LITTLE  MATTHY  GROVES 37 

16.  SWEET  WILLIAM 40 

17.  THE  HOUSE  CARPENTER 43 

18.  Two  LITTLE  BOYS 45 

19.  THE  CHERRY  TREE  CAROL 47 

20.  THE  FALSE  KNIGHT 48 

OTHER   IMPORTED   BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

21.  THE  DROWSY  SLEEPER 51™ 

22.  THE  BAMBOO  BRIARS 53 

23.  THE  BOSTON  BURGLAR 57 

24.  THE  BUTCHER'S  BOY 60 

25.  THE  DEATH  OF  A  ROMISH  LADY 63 

26.  JOHNNY  AND  BETSY 66 

27.  THE  SOLDIER 68 

28.  THE  FARMER'S  BOY 69 

29.  THE  RICH  YOUNG  FARMER 71 

30.  THE  LOVER'S  RETURN 73 

31.  'THE  PRENTICE  BOY 74 

32.  THE  CONSTANT  FARMER'S  SON 76 

33.  MOLLIE  BOND 78 

34.  MY  FATHER'S  GRAY  MARE 80 

35.  MARY  O '  THE  WILD  MOOR 81 

36.  FATHER  GRUMBLE 82 

ix 


x  CONTENTS 

37.  GUYFAWKES PAgl 

38.  WILLIAM  REILLY'S  COURTSHIP 86 

39.  JACK  RILEY 89 

NATIVE  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

40.  THE  BATTLE  OF  POINT  PLEASANT 93 

41.  JAMES  BIRD 93 

42.  SPRINGFIELD  MOUNTAIN       .      .      .      .      .      .      .      .97 

43.  THE  JEALOUS  LOVER 101 

44.  YOUNG  CHARLOTTE 103 

45.  THE  OLD  SHAWNEE 108 

46.  THE  MAN  THAT  WOULDN'T  HOE  CORN  .      .      .      .110 

47.  WICKED  POLLY Ill 

48.  JOHNNY  SANDS 114 

49.  FULLER  AND  WARREN 116 

50.  POOR  GOINS 118 

51.  POOROMIE 119 

—62.  SILVER  DAGGER 121 

53.  THE  AGED  INDIAN 124 

54.  CALOMEL 126 

55.  THE  CREOLE  GIRL 127 

56.  THE  BLUE  AND  THE  GRAY 129 

57.  THE  GAMBLER 130 

58.  THE  BAGGAGE  COACH  AHEAD 131 

59.  CASEY  JONES 133 

60.  THE  LADY  ELGIN 134 

61.  THE  JAMESTOWN  FLOOD 135 

62.  THE  MILWAUKEE  FIRE       .      . 138 

63.  THE  FATAL  WEDDING 140 

BALLADS  OF   CRIMINALS  AND   OUTLAWS 

64.  JESSE  JAMES 145 

65.  CHARLES  GUITEAU 146 

66.  SAM  BASS 149 

67.  JACK  WILLIAMS 152 

68.  YOUNG  McFEB 153 

69.  MY  BONNY  BLACK  BESS 155 

70.  TURPIN  AND  THE  LAWYER 157 

71.  JACK  DONAHOO 158 

72.  CAPTAIN  KIDD 160 

WESTERN   BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

73.  THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 163 

74.  THE  LITTLE  OLD  SOD  SHANTY  ON  THE  CLAIM     .      .   165 

75.  COWBOY  SONG 166 

76.  THE  OLD  CHISHOLM  TRAIL 167 

77.  THE  DYING  COWBOY 170 

78.  O  BURY  ME  NOT  ON  THE  LONE  PRAIRIE     .      .      .171 

79.  I  WANT  TO  BE  A  COWBOY  .   173 


CONTENTS  xi 

PAGE 

80.  WHOOPEE  Ti  Yi  Yo,  GIT  ALONG  LITTLE  DOGIES  .   174 

81.  CHEYENNE  BOYS 175 

82.  BREAKING  IN  A  TENDERFOOT         176 

83.  STARVING  TO  DEATH  ON  A  GOVERNMENT  CLAIM  .    .   178 

84.  THE  BUFFALO  SKINNERS 181 

85.  THE  KINK  AIDERS'  SONG 184 

86.  DAKOTA  LAND 185 

87.  THE  DREARY  BLACK  HILLS 185 

88.  JOE  BOWERS 186 

89.  IN  THE  SUMMER  OF  SIXTY 189 

90.  THE  DYING  CALIFORNIAN 191 

MISCELLANEOUS  BALLADS  AND   SONGS 

91.  THE  PRETTY  MOHEA 197 

92.  KATIE'S  SECRET 198 

93.  MARY  AND  WILLIE 200    • 

94.  KITTY  WELLS 202 

95.  PASTORAL  ELEGY 203 

96.  THE  COURTSHIP  OF  BILLY  GRIMES 205 

97.  FAIR  FANNY  MOORE 206 

98.  I  WISH  I  WAS  SINGLE  AGAIN 207- 

99.  I'LL  NOT  MARRY  AT  ALL 208 

100.  ROSEN  THE  Bow 209 

101.  EVALINA 211 

102.  MY  BLUE-EYED  BOY 212 

103.  THE  OLD  GRAY  MULE 213 

104.  I  WILL  TELL  You  OF  A  FELLOW 214 

105.  THE  PREACHER'S  LEGACY 216 

106.  THE  SPANISH  CABINEER 218 

^107.  THE  Two  DRUMMERS 218 

DIALOGUE,  NURSERY  AND  GAME  SONGS 

108.  THE  QUAKER'S  COURTSHIP 223 

109.  DUTCHMAN,  DUTCHMAN,  WON'T  You  MARRY  ME?  224 

110.  WHAT  WILL  You  GIVE  ME  IF  I  GET  UP?    ...  225 

111.  PAPER  OF  PINS 226 

112.  THE  MILKMAID 228 

113.  BILLY  BOY 231 

114.  POOR  ROBIN 232 

115.  BABES  IN  THE  WOODS 233 

116.  IN  GOOD  OLD  COLONY  TIMES 234 

117.  LET'S  Go  TO  THE  WOODS 235 

118.  I  BOUGHT  ME  A  WIFE 236 

119.  WE'LL  ALL  Go  DOWN  TO  ROWSER'S  .      .      .      .      .237 

120.  SWEET  FIELDS  OF  VIOLO 238 

INDEX 241 

NOTES .247 


INTRODUCTION 

I.  The  pieces  in  the  following  collection  depend  for 
their  vitality  upon  oral,  not  upon  written,  transmission. 
They  have  a  subliterate  existence,  as  apart  from  verse 
preserved  in  a  form  fixed  by  the  printed  page.  They 
are  to  be  distinguished  from  folk-songs  like  Yankee 
Doodle,  John  Brown,  Hail  Columbia,  although  these 
well-known  songs  belong  even  more  properly  to  the 
"people  as  a  whole"  than  do  the  songs  in  this  anthology. 
Those  included  here  are  known  to  singers  in  scattered 
places;  they  have  circulation  in  certain  regions,  among 
certain  groups;  and  some  of  them  find  very  large 
currency  indeed.  But  other  regions  of  America  and 
other  classes  of  people  do  not  know  them  at  all.  Patri 
otic  songs  like  America,  and  those  named  above, 
have  nation-wide  popularity.  They  are  the  property, 
not  of  the  folk  in  certain  sections  and  groups,  but  of 
the  people  of  the  United  States.  Their  currency  is 
not  sporadic  but  universal.  The  real  distinction, 
however,  between  folk-songs  of  the  one  type  and  of  the 
other  does  not  hinge  upon  their  degree  of  currency 
among  the  people;  it  is  something  quite  different. 
Son^s  handed  on  by  the  printed  page  are  static; 
traditional  pieces,  handed  on  orally  from  mouth  to 
mouth,  are  in  a  state  of  flux.  This  is  the  most  valid 
distinction  which  caiTBelnade  for  folk-song  proper  as 
differentiated  from  book  or  semi-literary  verse  or  front 
popular  song  in  general.  Traditional  songs,  or  genuine 
oral  songs  or  folk-songs,  have  no  existence  fixed  by;$ 
print.  They  have  no  standard  form  but  are  contin 
ually  changing. 

xii 


INTRODUCTION  xiii       • 

Other  characteristics  of  genuine  folk-songs  are  that  *  ' 
they  have  retained  their  vitality  through  a  fair  period  of 
time  and  that  all  sense  of  their  authorship  and  pro 
venience  has  been  lost~T5y  TiKeir  singers.  Criteria  of 
origin  for  the  genuineness  of  folk-song  have  no  depend 
ability.  A  body  of  folk-song  is  increased  by  pieces  of 
many  origins ;  especially  by  the  adaptation  of  pld  pieces, 
and  by  the  absorption  and  ^metamorphosis  mto  the 
stream  of  oral  tradition  of  popular  verse  of  many 
book  or  literary  types.  The  only  valid  tests  of  genuine 
folk-song  are  not  based  on  manner  of  origin  but  are 
the  three  just  named.  Genuine  folk-songs  are  not 
static  but  are  in  a  state  of  flux;  they  have  been  handed 
down  through  a  fair  period  of  time;  and  all  sense  of 
their  authorship  and  origin  has  been  lost. 

The  songs  included  in  the  following  volume  are  for 
the  most  part  simple  in  type,  and  they  have  been  gath 
ered  in  many  parts  of  the  United  States.  They  come 
from  scattered  sources  and  from  the  tongues  of  many 
kinds  of  singers.  Both  songs  telling  a  story,  or  ballads 
proper,  and  purely  lyrical  pieces  have  been  included. 
The  dividing  line  is  sometimes  hard  to  draw;  for  ballads 
often  lose  their  thread  of  story  and  become  pure  lyrics. 
The  reverse  process,  namely,  that  songs  in  oral  tradition 
gradually  assume  a  narrative  element  and  become 
ballads,  appears  rarely  if  at  all.  Inferior  pieces  are 
included  liberally  in  the  volume  as  well  as  those  of 
better  quality.  Whatever  types  have  appealed  to 
the  folk-consciousness  sufficiently  to  win  preservation 
for  themselves  have  been  held  to  deserve  represen 
tation. 

Some  delimitations  have  been  observed,  however. 
Songs  of  the  following  types  are  well  known  to  many 
singers  who  have  never  seen  them  in  print,  but  they 
have  not  been  given  representation  in  these  pages: 
patriotic  pieces,  like  America,  Yankee  Doodle,  or 


xiv  INTRODUCTION 

national  songs  like  John  Brown,  A  Hot  Time;  popular 
religious  songs,  like  Onward  Christian  Soldiers;  pseudo- 
negro  songs,  like  Sewanee  River,  My  Old  Kentucky 
Home;  sentimental  songs,  like  Juanita,  Lorena,  My 
Bonnie  Lies  Over  the  Ocean.  For  one  thing,  such 
songs  are  very  familiar.  They  are  easily  accessible  in 
print  and  there  are  no  fascinating  mysteries  connected 
with  their  history.  But  of  more  importance  is  the 
fact  that  they  have  not  been  dependent  upon  oral 
tradition  for  their  perpetuation.  Further,  little  repre 
sentation  is  given  in  these  pages  to  children's  songs  and 
game  songs  and  nursery  rhymes.  These  form  a  separ 
ate  subject;  and  so,  for  the  most  part,  do  negro  and 
pseudo-negro  songs.  The  most  genuine  American 
oral  literature  of  all,  that  of  the  American  Indian, 
assuredly  forms  a  separate  and  wholly  distinct  subject. 
It  needs  treatment  by  itself.  It  bulks  large  and  is  part 
of  the  social  history  of  America;  but  it  has  been  without 
influence  on  the  native  traditional  song  in  the  English 
tongue. 

II.  The  oral  versions  of  folk-song  are  practically 
innumerable.  A  book  of  the  size  of  the  present  volume 
could  be  filled  by  the  variant  versions  of  half  a  dozen 
of  the  pieces  included  in  it.  But  it  should  be  borne 
in  mind  that  the  variations  of  the  folk  are  instinctive 
and  unconscious,  not  deliberate.  There  are  countless 
shiftingsarid^Dmissions  or  additions  in  the  mouths 
of  varying  singers,  but  they  are  unintentional. 
Alteration  arises  through  slips  of  memory,  local  adap 
tations  (as  the  substitution  of  names),  and  through 
the  omissions  and  the  insertions  of  individual  singers. 
Many  are  due  to  confusion  with  other  ballads  or  to 
personal  tastes  or  prejudices.  Nor  is  it  always  the 
fortunate  changes  which  persist,  though  some  scholars 
seem  to  think  this.  Stupid  or  garrulous  changes 


INTRODUCTION  xv 

persist  also.  Crossings  with  other  ballads  may  disorder 
a  song  until  it  remains  merely  a  heap  of  confused  mate 
rials.  Another  song  may  glide  onward  from  genera 
tion  to  generation  keeping  the  situation — generally  a 
tragic  situation — which  is  its  soul;  but  transforming 
its  phrases  and  stanzas.  Sometimes  very  old  narra 
tives,  despite  their  multiform  transformations,  have 
in  most  variants  not  yet  lost  their  thread  of  story 
or  become  transformed  beyond  recognition.  This 
is  the  case  in  the  well-known  ballads  Lord  Randal1  and 
The  Two  Sisters.2 

On  the  whole,  the  influence  of  folk-transmission  is  a 
levelling  influence.  It  conventionalizes  according  to 
its  traditions.  The  total  effect  of  its  alterations,  con 
tributions,  and  curtailments  is  to  bring  homogeneity 
in  style  and  manner  of  narration.  Imported  songs, 
once  of  totally  different  character,  accommodate 
themselves  to  the  regional  modes  and  characteristics 
of  their  new  home.  Some  effective  incident  or  story, 
presented  in  a  simple  memorable  way,  commends 
itself  to  the  folk-consciousness.  Gradually  it  trans 
forms  itself  in  agreement  with  the  tastes  and  traditions 
of  the  localities  where  it  becomes  domesticated,  and 
sometimes  it  ends  as  something  quite  different  from 
what  it  was  when  it  began. 

It  is  usual  to  look  upon  ballads  with  some  degree  of 
indulgence  as  verse  of  a  singularly  ''artless'1  kind. 
For  that  reason  those  who  are  in  reaction  from  book 
verse  find  in  it  peculiar  pleasure.  The  truth  is,  how 
ever,  that  the  antithesis  should  be  drawn  between 
poetry  of  the  folk  and  poetry  of  culture,  not  poetry  of 
"art."  Art  is  not  the  same  thing  as  culture  and  is  not 
dependent  upon  it.  The  most  primitive  people  may 
have  its  own  kind  of  art.  Ballads  are  often  themselves 

1  Johnny  Randall  (No.  1)  in  this  collection. 
*  No.  4. 


•f 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

relics  of  culture  poetry,  and  they  have  their  own  art, 
traditions,  and  etiquette.  These  may  be  naive,  but 
it  would  never  occur  to  the  singers  to  wish  for  innova 
tions,  or  for  something  more  elaborate.  From  the 
art,  traditions,  and  etiquette  that  it  knows,  the  folk 
never  wavers.  Departure  from  them,  within  the  limits 
of  a  period  or  place,  is  out  of  the  question.  It  is  always 
surprising  that  such  variety  may  appear  in  the  handling 
of  stock  material,  yet  so  little  inventiveness  be  ex 
hibited,  or  novelty  in  technique. 

III.  Ballad  singing  was  once  a  dignified  means  of 
entertaining  a  company.  There  was  singing  at  social 
gatherings  and  at  the  games  and  dances  of  young 
folks,  as  well  as  on  occasions  of  more  impromptu 
character.  Singing  of  this  type  is  now  much  restricted, 
but  it  lingers  in  out-of-the-way  places,  as  in  the  chimney 
nooks  of  farm  houses,  or  by  the  stove  in  the  cross-roads 
store.  Ballad  singing  is  not  often  to  be  heard  from 
beggars  and  cripples,  as  once  so  typically  in  the  Old 
World,  nor  on  village  greens;  but  casual  knots  of 
listeners  may  still  be  entertained  by  them  in  the  cabin, 
in  the  cornfield,  or  by  the  creek.  Occasionally  they 
are  heard  in  village  parlors,  or  here  and  there  in  the 
drawing  rooms  of  cities.  Bits  of  picturesque  old 
songs  may  sometimes  be  heard  from  children,  who 
learned  them  from  neighboring  families  or  picked  them 
up  in  the  street.  Ballads  are  most  alive  in  the  moun 
tainous  regions  of  the  Southeast  and  on  Western 
ranches.  '•The  more  isolated  the  region,  the  better  the 
chance  for  the  survival  of  old  songs.  They  may  be 
sung  to  the  fiddle  or  accordion,  the  mouth-harp,  or 
occasionally  to  a  cabinet  organ.  In  the  Cumberland 
mountains  they  are  still  sung  to  the  banjo  or  to  the 
"dulcimore,"  a  three-stringed  instrument  plucked 
with  the  fingers,  descending  from  Elizabethan  days. 


INTRODUCTION  xvii 

It  is  often  a  difficult  matter  to  secure  songs  from  the 
singers  with  good  voices  and  retentive  memories 
who  know  them  best.  Every  collector  has  had  expe 
rience  with  those  whose  modesty  or  perversity  or  fear 
of  ridicule  makes  them  unwilling  to  sing,  for  purposes 
of  notation,  the  pieces  in  their  repertory. 

Even  in  the  older  and  more  isolated  regions  the  influx 
of  modern  music  has  replaced  traditional  pieces  by 
those  in  contemporary  vogue.  And  the  lessening  of 
illiteracy  has  made  remote  communities  less  dependent 
for  entertainment  on  what  has  been  handed  down. 
The  prestige  has  diminished  of  singers  with  large 
repertories  for  whom,  as  for  their  audiences,  the  printed 
page  means  nothing.  The  broad-sheets  containing 
older  songs  have  been  destroyed  with  the  passing  of 
the  taste  for  them.  In  some  communities,  religious 
motives  have  lain  behind  the  discarding  of  traditional 
pieces.  They  were  thought  to  be  "ungodly"  by  their 
singers.  As  time  goes  on,  the  popularity  of  the  vicar 
ious  music  of  the  phonograph  (with  the  possibilities 
of  variety  and  novelty  afforded  by  its  records)  and  the 
introduction  of  other  forms  of  amusement  have  lessened 
the  amount  of  singing  for  entertainment.  It  is  not 
to  be  expected  that  singing  will  die  out.  Probably 
there  will  always  be  circulation  of  older  songs  apart 
from  the  printed  page,  in  outlying  regions  where 
growth  and  change  come  slowly;  but  traditional  song 
will  not  play  the  same  role  as  formerly,  and  the  songs 
entering  into  oral  currency  will  be  fewer  and  shorter 
lived.  At  the  present  time,  the  very  multiplicity  of 
new  pieces  lessens  the  chance  that  many  will  survive. 
When  rural  folk  were  thrown  back  almost  solely  upon 
song  for  diversion,  it  loomed  larger  and  was  more  likely 
to  retain  vitality. 

As  regards  regional  distribution,  traditional  songs  of 
the  character  of  those  included  in  this  volume  are  found 


I 


xviii  INTRODUCTION 

most  abundantly  in  New  England  and  in  the  Southern 
Appalachian  region,  in  the  Southwest,  and  in  the 
Middle  West.  At  least  these  are  the  regions  which 
have  been  canvassed  with  the  best  results  by  collectors. 
Canada  also  has  yielded  material.  Nearly  any  kind  of 
piece  may  be  found  in  any  region;  but,  on  the  whole, 
English  and  Scottish  pieces  of  the  romantic  and  legen 
dary  type  have  been  best  preserved  in  New  England 
and  in  the  South.  As  they  have  roamed  westward 
they  have  lost  their  archaic  flavor  and  many  of  their 
distinguishing  touches.  Pieces  of  all  types  which 
have  reached  the  West,  even  when  ultimately  from  the 
Old  World,  have  lost  their  former  associations,  and 
are  likely  to  sound  as  though  they  sprang  up  in  the 
locality  which  preserves  them. 

IV.  The  characters  and  manners  of  the  American 
ballads  betray  their  varying  origins  and  the  divergent 
social  groups  among  which  they  have  lingered.  In 
the  imported  romantic  and  legendary  ballads  high 
born  personages  sometimes  retain  their  titles  of  nobility 
and  their  aristocratic  adventures  are  not  lost.  More 
often,  if  such  pieces  have  been  long  in  the  New 
World,  the  characters,  localities,  and  stories  are  accom 
modated  to  a  New  World  setting.  There  is  loss  of 
romantic  features  and  disappearance  of  many  archaic 
literary  touches  in  expression.  Manners  remain  ele 
mental.  The  preservation  of  the  bare  stories  gives  no 
chance  for  explanation  or  for  subtleties.  Evil  stands 
ut  stark  and  goodness  is  equally  unqualified.  The 
true  love"  is  simple  and  devoted,  the  parents  stern 
or  harsh;  lovers  are  eternally  attached,  or  faithless 
and  murderous.  Favorite  characters  in  the  imported 
pieces  are  knights  and  ladies,  apprentices  from  London, 
lovers  back  from  wars,  highwaymen,  criminals,  and 
thieves.  On  the  whole,  the  Western  songs  are  those 


r^  ^         INTRODUCTION  xix 

'which  reflect  most  faithfully  local  conditions  and 
characters.  They  tell  of  privations  on  government 
claims,  of  mining  fevers,  of  cattle  and  "bosses"  and 
the  adventures  of  cowboys,  of  shooting  affrays,  and 
of  the  confessions  of  criminals  and  rovers.  The  occa 
sional  theme  of  death  for  love,  appearing  in  American 
ballads,  reflects  the  survival  in  folk-literature  of  what 
was  once  a  widespread  literary  convention.  In  the 
"complaints"  of  the  troubadours  and  of  their  lyric 
successors,  as  the  sonneteers,  death  from  love  was  the 
inevitable  prospect  held  out  as  in  store  for  himself  by  the 
singer  or  the  poet,  if  the  object  of  his  adoration  did  not 
prove  kind.  Verse  of  this  type  lasted  into  the  sixteenth 
and  seventeenth  centuries.  Dying  for  love  is  the 
theme  of  Barbara  Allen's  Cruelty,  and  it  helps  to  fix  the 
period  from  which  this  ballad  must  have  emerged. 
But  death  from  love  as  a  central  motive  has  passed 
from  present-day  song  as  it  did  long  ago  from  book 
verse;  though  sentimental  song  in  general  plays  as 
large  a  role  as  ever  in  popular  literature.  So  has  the 
murderous  lover,  who  was  once  so  conspicuous  a 
figure,  passed  from  contemporary  verse,  though  he 
lingers  in  folk-song.  There  is  little  violence  in  song 
of  the  present  day  and  there  are  fewer  striking  stories. 
Serious  or  tragic  stories  hardly  play  any  part  in  the 
song  of  our  own  time.  Nor  is  it  probable  that  much 
popular  contemporary  song  will  win  foothold  or  prove 
to  be  long-lived.  A  favorite  like  Tipperary  will  not 
persist  as  did  Willie  Reilly,  for  example,  which  has  a 
clear-cut  and  popular  story  and  which  gained  its 
currency  through  coming  into  use  as  a  campaign  song. 
In  general,  themes  and  modes  which  have  long  been 
given  up  in  the  circles  that  knew  them  first  remain 
alive  in  out-of-the-way  places.  Folk  literature  reflects 
the  tastes  in  themes,  the  characters,  manners,  and 
stories  of  book  or  semi-literary  verse  of  earlier  genera- 


xx  INTRODUCTION 

tions.  A  considerable  section  of  it  carries  into  the 
present  the  wreckage  of  the  culture  poetry  of  the  past. 

V.  The  type  of  traditional  songs  first  to  claim  the 
interest  and  attention  of  American  lovers  of  balladry 
is  imported,  namely,  English  and  Scottish  popular 
ballads  surviving  in  the  United  States.  Something  of 
Old  World  legend  and  romance  is  echoed  in  these 
immigrants  from  the  British  Isles  which  have  found  a 
home  in  a  new  land.  Next  in  interest  comes  the  group 
of  American  songs  which  is  in  strongest  contrast, 
namely,  frontier,  pioneer,  or  cowboy  pieces:  songs  of 
emigrants  westward,  of  frontier  conditions,  and  frontier 
characters,  or  of  outlaws  and  criminals  and  rovers. 
Both  varieties  of  song,  the  imported  and  the  Western, 
are  shrinking  in  bulk,  the  one  with  the  fading'of  such 
song  at  its  Old  World  sources,  hence  in  its  importation 
by  immigrants,  the  other  with  the  advance  of  popula 
tion  into  Western  outposts.  A  third  important  group 
of  American  traditional  songs  consists  of  love  pieces  of 
various  kinds,  which,  whether  inherited  or  indigenous, 
mostly  conform  to  Old  World  patterns.  Such  are 
songs  of  the  constant  or  the  inconstant  lover,  of  the 
reunion  of  parted  lovers,  of  the  murderous  lover,  or  of 
lovers  thwarted.  The  forsaken  girl  is  the  theme  of 
many  ballads  and  songs,  and  many  pieces  hinge  upon 
the  attitude  of  harsh  parents.  Such  songs  are  familiar 
and  abundant  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic,  and  they 
need  little  illustration.  Beside  songs  from  older  and 
from  later  British  sources  there  are  many  which  show 
derivation  from,  or  reference  to,  Ireland.  There  are 
some  American  pieces  which  retain  supernatural 
elements,  or  make  allusion  to  the  supernatural ;  but  on 
the  whole  ballads  of  the  supernatural  play  a  shrunken 
role  in  the  New  World. 

A  rough  classification  of  the  remaining  types  of 
American  song  would  include  a  few  songs  of  shipwreck 


INTRODUCTION 

(& 

or  of  the  lost  at  sea,  some  Indian  or  pseudo-Indian 
songs  like  The  Pretty  Mohea  or  The  Aged  Indian,  many 
humorous  songs  or  song-stories — often  finding  their 
chief  hold  upon  the  memory  in  some  single  line — like 
I  Wish  I  was  Single  Again  or  I'll  Not  Marry  at  All, 
songs  of  highwaymen  like  the  British  Dick  Turpin, 
the  Australian  Jack  Donahoo,  the  American  Jesse 
James,  or  of  the  pirate  Captain  Kidd.  There  are  also 
many  death-bed  confession  pieces  and  somewhat  ephem 
eral  songs  of  local  murders,  assassinations,  and  disas 
ters.  There  are  moralities  and  religious  songs,  tem 
perance  songs,  pathetic  songs  of  orphans  and  infants, 
songs  of  occupational  pursuits  like  farm  and  ranch 
life  and  railway  songs;  and,  lastly,  traditional  game 
and  dance  and  nursery  songs  of  American  children. 
These  last  need  a  volume  to  themselves  and  have  been 
given  little  space  in  these  pages. 

The  colonists  who  came  to  this  country  from  England 
in  the  seventeenth  century  undoubtedly  brought  with 
them  folk-songs  of  many  types  then  popular  in  England. 
The  ungodly  songs  censored  by  Cotton  Mather  were 
probably  street  songs,  amatory  or  ribald,  which  he 
wished  to  see  replaced  by  those  of  more  pious  character. 
Among  them  may  have  been  some  of  the  traditional 
English  and  Scottish  ballads.  It  is  quite  possible  that 
a  few  Old  World  ballads  have  been  recovered  in  this 
country  in  an  earlier  form  than  that  which  survives  in 
England.  This  may  be  true  for  Barbara  Allen's 
Cruelty,  some  texts  of  which — as  pointed  -out  by 
Professor  C.  Alphonso  Smith1 — supply  a  hiatus  in  the 
narrative  of  British  texts;  and  it  may  be  true  for  The 
Maid  Freed  from  the  Gallows.  The  song  of  Betsy 
Brown,  when  Professor  Firth's  text2  is  compared  with 

1  "Ballads  Surviving  in  the  United  States,"  The  Musical  Quarterly, 
January,  1916. 

2  An  American  Garland  (1915),  p.  69. 


xxii  INTRODUCTION 

some  of  those  found  in  this  country,  seems  to  have 
retained  integrity  better  in  its  New  World  form. 
The  Romish  Lady,  dating  from  the  era  of  Protestant 
martyrs,  remains  very  close  in  its  American  derivatives 
to  the  broadside  text  of  the  time  of  Charles  II,  which 
is  the  earliest  text  of  it  preserved  in  England.  It  seems 
to  play  little  or  no  role  in  later  British  traditional  song 
but  has  found  a  good  deal  of  currency  on  this  side  of 
the  Atlantic.  Since  colonial  times,  folk-songs  have 
been  brought  over  by  nearly  every  influx  of  newcomers. 
Immigrants  from  Ireland  especially  have  brought  over 
many  songs.  One  " classic"  from  this  source,  much 
adapted  and  disguised,  is  The  Dying  Cowboy. 

Nothing  indigenous  lives  from  colonial  times,  so  far 
as  is  known.  Nor  does  anything  live  from  the  Revolu 
tionary  War  and  the  days  following,  except  Yankee 
Doodle,  which  is  sung  to  an  Irish  melody,  and  a  few 
patriotic  songs.  These  have  an  established  popularity 
quite  apart  from  the  traditional  and  the  oral.  They 
have  entered  into  traditional  currency  but  are  far  from 
dependent  on  it.  A  still  recognizable  indigenous  piece 
from  the  eighteenth  century  is  Springfield  Mountain, 
which  has  had  astonishing  vitality  in  view  of  its 
inferior  quality.  From  the  War  of  1812  remain  a  few 
fragments  like  the  children's  game  song  "  We're 
Marching  on  to  Old  Quebec"  and  a  song  concerning 
the  British  ship,  the  Boxer.  The  Civil  War  left  us 
John  Brown,  Tramp,  Tramp,  Tramp,  Marching  through 
Georgia,  etc.,  but  these,  like  America  and  Hail,  Columbia, 
though  they  are  usually  called  "  American  folk-songs," 
are  not  dependent  for  perpetuation  upon  oral  tradition. 
Some  battle  and  campaign  songs,  songs  of  special 
events,  and  elegiac  pieces  have  survived  from  the  Civil 
War.  A  number  hvae  been  salvaged  in  Missouri  by 
Professor  H.  M.  Belden,  and  in  the  Cumberland  Moun 
tains  by  Professor  H.  G.  Shearin.  But  songs  of  this 


INTRODUCTION  xxiii 

type  have  little  interest  and  fade  early.  Many  senti 
mental  songs  from  the  middle  decades  of  the  nineteenth 
century  are  still  current,  notably  Mrs.  Norton's 
Juanita  and  H.  D.  L.  Webster's  Lorena.  These  are 
favorite  songs  among  ranchmen,  cowboys,  and  others, 
who  are  utterly  unconscious  of  their  provenience. 
But  the  great  legacy  for  Americah  song  from  the  period 
of  the  Civil  War  is  the  legacy  of  negro  song,  plantation 
songs,  and  the  pseudo-negro  songs  of  composers  like 
Stephen  C.  Foster,  Henry  C.  Work,  Will  S.  Hays. 
Owing  to  their  distinctive  qualities  and  peculiar  appeal, 
a  striking  number  of  these  pieces  remain  in  popular 
currency,  and  they  constitute  an  attractive  portion  of 
our  song.  Some  of  the  comic  negro  songs,  like  Jim 
Crow,  Zip  Coon,  Seltin'  on  a  Rail,  which  are  still  alive 
in  traditional  circulation,  date  from  a  period  earlier 
than  the  Civil  War;  but  all  types  of  negro  songs  gained 
impetus  during  the  war  period  and  they  owe  to  the 
feeling  and  the  interests  which  were  bound  up  with  it 
much  of  their  diffusion  and  persistence.  The  Cuban 
War,  later  in  the  century,  bequeathed  There'll  Be  a 
Hot  Time  in  the  Old  Town  Tonight  to  folk-song,  and  the 
recent  European  war  will  probably  leave  its  quota  of 
favorites,  though  it  is  yet  too  early  to  predict  which  of 
them  will  find  longest  life. 

VI.  Traditional  songs  differ  in  their  origin,  history, 
and  the  impetus  for  their  diffusion.  To  some  pieces 
dates  can  be  affixed  and  their  development  followed. 
Others  come  from  an  uncertain  past.  They  seem  to 
issue  from  nowhere  in  particular  and  to  roam  unac 
countably  from  region  to  region.  The  chances  of  time 
have  made  it  impossible  to  determine  the  year  or  the 
locality  of  their  emergence,  or  to  be  certain  of  their 
original  form.  To  most  lovers  of  traditional  verse, 
however,  the  source  of  a  song  seems  a  negligible  matter. 


xxiv  INTRODUCTION 

The  problem  of  its  origin  is  of  little  interest  except  to 
the  specialist.  The  fact  of  popular  transmission  and 
the  circumstance  that  generations  of  singers  have 
contributed  to  its  modification,  curtailment,  or  expan 
sion,  lend  it  its  attraction.  It  is  always  surprising  to 
learn  how  soon  the  memory  of  the  history  and  author 
ship  of  popular  songs  is  lost. 

For  indigenous  ballads,  a  few  generalizations  may 
safely  be  made.  A  percentage  re^££^_real^eYejitS4.'  but 
in  general  there  is  little  connection  with  history,  or 
the  connection  is  of  slight  importance.  A  few  had 
their  genesis  in  local  happenings  chronicled  by  local 
poets.  Some,  like~tEe~  ballads  of  the  Meeks  murder 
examined  by  Professor  H.  M.  Belden,1  have  found  but 
little  diffusion.  Others,  like  Springfield  Mountain, 
wandered  far  from  their  starting  point.  Young  Char 
lotte  seems  to  have  been  carried  widely  over  the  United 
States  by  the  peregrinations  of  its  author.  As  a  general 
thing,  local  ballads,  made  by  some  local  bard,  or  im 
provised  by  individual  contributors,  are  the  most 
ephemeral  of  all  ballads.  They  rarely  survive  except 
in  chance  fragments..  A  considerable  proportion  of 
the  pieces  current  in  American  folk-song  were  floated 
by  singers  in  traveling  troupes,  especially  by  the 
old-time  "entertainers"  and  minstrel  troupes  of  various 
types;  or  they  were  carried  over  the  country,  in  later 
days,  through  the  agency  of  plays  into  which  they  were 
introduced.  Since  Elizabethan  times  this  has  been  a 
notable  source  of  impetus.  Fletcher's  Knight  of  the 
Burning  Pestle  mentions  many  popular  songs  of  the 
day.  One  is  Little  Musgrave  and  Lady  Barnard, 
which  is  still  alive  in  this  country,  whether  or  not  it  is 
in  England,  and  another  is  The  Romish  Lady,  which  is 
also  yet  alive.  The  early  popularity  in  London  circles  of 

1  "A  Study  in  Contemporary  Balladry,"  The  Mid-West  Quarterly, 
vol.  I,  pp.  162-172. 


INTRODUCTION  xxv 

other  songs  now  part  of  traditional  folk-song  is  attested 
by  their  incorporation  into  or  mention  in  other  dramas. 
Certainly  many  American  songs  owe  their  circulation 
to  their  introduction  into  plays  (like  After  the  Ball 
which  was  taken  about  the  country  in  Hoyt's  farce 
A  Trip  to  Chinatown),  or  to  their  being  taken  through 
many  states  by  bands  of  wandering  singers.  Many 
songs  gained  wide  popularity  through  the  agency  of 
colored  minstrel  troupes.  Johnny  Sands  was  floated 
by  itinerant  bands  like  the  Continental  Vocalists  and 
the  Hutchinson  Family,  in  the  earlier  half  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  In  the  Baggage  Coach  Ahead  got 
its  currency  by  being  thrown  on  a  curtain,  with  colored 
slides,  in  vaudeville  programs. 

There  were,  however,  many  other  modes  of  diffusion 
and  helps  to  vitality.  Important  were  the  "popular 
songsters,"  or  small  song  books  of  various  types,  and 
the  "broadsides,"  in  sheet  music  form  or  containing 
the  words  alone,  which  were  sold  by  itinerant  vendors 
of  patent  medicine,  or  peddlers,  or  at  booths  established 
at  fairs,  or  in  the  wake  of  circuses  or  of  wandering 
entertainers.  Many  songs  learned  from  singers  in 
childhood  at  the  schoolhouse  linger  in  the  memory 
when  those  of  newer  acquisition  have  been  forgotten. 
Popular  pieces  of  a  religious  or  moralizing  nature 
gained  circulation  at  the  camp  meetings  of  revivalists, 
and  many  songs  found  their  impetus  at  temperance 
gatherings.  Western  songs  were  sometimes  handed 
on  or  launched  at  old  settlers'  picnics,  or  were  sung  at 
social  gatherings  at  farms  or  ranches,  or  at  the  "play 
parties"  and  dances  of  young  people.  One  of  the  most 
important  sources  of  preservation  and  one  which  has 
afforded  to  collectors  many  of  their  best  texts  is  the 
manuscript  book,  handed  on  from  generation  to  genera 
tion,  into  which  songs  have  been  transcribed  from  oral 
and  other  sources.  Some  newspapers  have  conducted 


xxvi  INTRODUCTION 

columns  in  which  "old  favorites"  are  reprinted  for 
readers,  or  texts  are  called  for  by  those  who  have 
forgotten  them,  or  the  search  is  stimulated  for  the 
complete  texts  of  songs  recalled  in  fragments.  Many 
scrap-books  have  been  made  and  handed  on  into  which 
clippings  from  newspapers  of  old  favorites  have  been 
pasted.  Most  of  these  sources  of  circulation  are  now 
declining,  and  some  of  them  are  no  longer  existent. 
For  that  matter,  the  handing  on  of  songs  by  oral  tradi 
tion  has  become  more  and  more  curtailed.  It  is  far 
from  extinct,  and  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  it  will 
ever  completely  die  out  from  the  human  race;  but  with 
the  spread  of  literacy,  the  increasing  circulation  of 
printed  matter,  the  introduction  of  phonographs,  and 
the  removal  of  old-time  isolation,  through  the  agency 
of  railroads,  automobiles,  and  (in  these  days)  of  air 
planes,  the  singing  of  traditional  songs  plays  a  lessened 
r61e. 

American  folk-song  as  a  whole  has  been  imported 
from  the  Old  World.  This  is  becoming  less  true,  but 
it  still  holds.  Folk-songs  are  still  brought  across  the 
Atlantic  by  newcomers;  and  a  large  percentage  of  the 
most  striking  and  persistent  pieces  current  in  America 
are  derived  from  Old  World  originals,  English,  Scottish, 
or  Irish.  Many  survive  which  were  brought  over  long 
ago,  or  they  enter  in  new  form  with  some  shipload  of 
immigrants.  Songs  recently  imported  still  win  foot 
hold  and  then  wander  from  community  to  community. 

VII.  Sometimes  collectors  of  ballads  and  folk-songs 
preserve  the  music  to  which  the  texts  are  sung,  but  more 
often  the  words  only  are  recorded.  The  salvage  of 
melodies  is  desirable ;  for  folk-music,  like  folk-literature, 
has  its  interest  and  its  distinctive  ways.  Generally 
the  melody  and  the  words  are  so  associated  in  the  minds 
of  the  singers  that  the  one  cannot  be  recalled  without 


INTRODUCTION  xxvii 

the  other.  The  song  is  the  life  of  the  words;  the  two 
are  not  to  be  separated.  Nevertheless  the  recording 
of  the  tune  along  with  the  words  is  less  important  for 
throwing  light  on  the  history  of  the  song  than  might 
be  thought.  The  words  have  more  stability  than  the 
music.  A  piece  retains  its  identity  by  its  story,  or  its 
situations,  or  its  characters;  ngt  by  its  melody.  For 
example,  innumerable  varying  Sirs  nave  been  recorded 
for  Barbara  Allen,  Lord  Randal,  The  Dying  Cowboy, 
Babes  in  the  Woods.  It  is  often  difficult  or  impossible 
to  determine  which  melody  is  nearest  to  the  original. 
Many  texts  of  many  kinds  may  be  sung  to  one  air, 
and  many  different  airs  may  be  employed  for  one  text. 
There  is  even  greater  fluctuation  on  the  musical  than 
on  the  textual  side  of  folk-song.  Indeed,  here  is  a 
prolific  source  of  crossings  in  ballads,  of  amalgamations, 
and  of  exchange  of  refrains.  Pieces  sung  to  a  familiar 
air  may  assume  some  of  the  associations  of  that  air. 
Possibly  some  of  the  older  English  ballads  have  been 
preserved  to  us  in  comparative  integrity  because  they 
were  chanted  or  recited  rather  than  sung.  Professor 
Child  suggests  for  some  of  the  old  English  ballads  that 
they  sound  as  though  they  were  recited,  and  The 
Complaint  of  Scotland  (1549)  testifies  to  the  recital 
rather  than  the  singing  of  certain  Robin  Hood  pieces. 
But  it  is  through  singing  that  folk-songs  are  handed 
down.  In  America  at  least,  pieces  do  not  seem  to  be 
continued  in  tradition  through  recital  or  chanting. 
They  persist  because  they  are  sung.  It  is  the  music, 
however  it  fluctuate,  which  keeps  them  alive. 

VIII.  The  ballads  of  Old  World  collectors  seem 
often  to  have  been  touched  by  skilful  hands.  Sir 
Walter  Scott  rests  under  the  suspicion  of  having 
enhanced  the  poetical  quality  and  vigor  of  many  pieces, 
and  so  do  other  collectors,  from  Bishop  Percy  onward. 
Nothing  of  the  kind  has  been  true  in  America.  The 


xxviii  INTRODUCTION 

songs  gathered  by  native  collectors  have  been  left  as 
they  were  and  American  texts  can  be  accepted  without 
qualification.  Taken  as  a  whole,  they  testify  that, 
though  ballads  may  both  gain  and  lose  by  transmission, 
the  latter  is  the  more  usual  process.  It  is  a  mistake 
•fro  affirm  that  traditional  preservation  ensures  improve- 

/ment,  though  it  may  help  for  a  time.  It  shortens  a 
long  or  diffuse  piece,  drops  out  non-essentials,  and 
preserves  dramatic  scenes,  bits  of  dialogue,  and  the 
situation  which  is  the  soul  of  the  story.  Salient  pas 
sages  come  to  stand  out,  old  introductions  are  lost, 
while  the  critical  features  of  the  narrative,  the  dialogue 
and  the  turning  points,  remain.  The  "nobler  wild- 
flower  sort  of  poetry"  may  have  become  such  by  virtue 
of  the  sifting  hands  through  which  it  has  passed,  or  by 
virtue  of  the  selective  processes  of  the  folk-memory. 
But  in  the  majority  of  cases  a  folk-song  deteriorates 
in  oral  tradition,  developing  incompleteness,  incoher 
ence,  and  sometimes  garrulous  protraction.  An  in 
stance  in  point  is  the  ballad  of  Springfield  Mountain 
which  originated  in  the  eighteenth  century  and  has 
survived  only  in  oral  form.  The  process  of  folk- 
transmission  has  not  evolved  it  into  a  good  ballad  or 
improved  it.  It  had  little  poetical  merit  at  the  begin 
ning  and  its  twentieth  century  derivatives  have  not 
remedied  the  weaknesses  of  the  original.  Another 
instance  is  the  fine  old  song  of  Barbara  Allen's  Cruelty 
which  emerges  from  the  seventeenth  century.  In 
many  later  forms  it  has  wholly  lost  its  dignity  and 
appeal.  Even  those  songs  which  have  been  improved 
by  the  processes  of  folk-transmission  in  the  end  fall 
themselves  into  decay. 

As  to  stylistic  characteristics,  some  American  songs 
are  rough,  frank,  spirited,  others  picturesque  and  pathe 
tic.  The  diction  tends  to  be  rugged,  the  meter  crude, 
the  tone  unsophisticated.  Though  sometimes  highly 


INTRODUCTION  xxix 

colored  by  emotion,  the  language  of  American  oral 
song  is  plain.  Finery  and  elegance  are  lost  if  they  were 
ever  present.  The  folk-memory  is  intent  on  story  and 
situation  and  it  cares  little  for  coherence  or  ornament. 
The  conventional  epithets  of  the  Old  World  ballads  do 
not  appear  in  American  ballads  and,  except  when  in 
herited,  as  in  Johnny  Randall,  or  Edward,  or  The 
Cruel  Brother,  the  legacy  motive  and  the  sequence 
mannerism  of  the  English  and  Scottish  ballads  are 
wanting.  Common,  however,  is  the  "Come  all  ye" 
formula  of  invitation  at  the  opening.  This  is  charac 
teristic  of  later  British  and  Irish  ballads,  and  has  been 
domesticated  in  America  from  immigrant  song 

IX.  Conscious  interest  in  the  traditional  balladry 
of  the  people  arose  in  England  in  the  eighteenth  cen 
tury.  In  the  latter  half  of  that  century  the  effort  to 
recover  and  make  public  pieces  of  especial  interest 
was  made  by  many  collectors.  The  impulse  took  on 
added  momentum  in  the  nineteenth  century  and  has 
maintained  itself,  gaining  rather  than  losing,  into 
the  twentieth.  Ainerican  enthusiasm  for  ballads  came 
a  hundred  years  later.  The  latter  half  of  the  nine 
teenth  century  brought  the  first  important  attempts 
to  gather  and  preserve  songs  in  traditional  currency. 
The  names  of  historic  collectors  for  America  are  those 
of  Professor  Francis  James  Child  (1825-1896)  of  Har 
vard,  whose  interest  in  English  and  Scottish  ballads 
led  to  his  preservation  of  many  such  pieces  in  their 
New  World  form,  William  Wells  Newell  (1839-1907),  a 
founder  of  the  American  Folk-Lore  Society  and  a 
collector  of  the  games  and  songs  of  American  children, 
and  Professor  G.  L.  Kittredge,  upon  whom  fell  the 
mantle  of  Professor  Child  at  Harvard.  Professor 
Kittredge  has  interested  himself  in  all  kinds  of  American 
traditional  pieces,  not  only  in  English  and  Scottish 


xxx  INTRODUCTION 

ballads  in  America;  and  he  has  done  much  to  stimulate 
collection  and  study  in  many  parts  of  the  country. 
Something  in  the  way  of  preservation  has  also  been 
contributed  by  historians,  though  the  pieces  having 
chief  interest  for  historians  are,  from  the  nature  of 
things,  transient.  They  are  likely  to  be  of  the  political  or 
chronicle  type,  rather  than  of  general  human  interest. 

On  the  whole,  the  wish  to  gather  and  preserve  popular 
song  may  be  viewed  as  accompanying  or  growing  out 
of  the  trend  toward  democracy.  It  parallels  for 
literary  history  the  change  taking  place  in  the  history 
of  society  in  general.  Since  the  eighteenth  century 
the  attention  of  political  thinkers  has  descended  through 
the  various  strata  of  society  until  the  lowest  strata  are 
now  in  the  foreground  of  interest.  It  has  often  been 
pointed  out  that  contemporary  historians  endeavor  to 
chronicle  the  common  man  as  well  as  the  hero.  The 
lowly  may  now  serve  as  central  characters  in  fiction 
and  drama  which  were  once  concerned  solely  with  pa 
tricians.  Similarly,  the  interest  of  literary  historians 
and  of  students  and  readers  has  extended  downward 
from  the  masterpiece  till  it  embraces  the  humble  and 
unrecorded  literature  of  the  folk. 

Texts  of  oral  literature  in  America  have  been  avail 
able  hitherto  mostly  in  scattered  places.  Perhaps 
the  widest  ranging  and  completest  available  repository 
of  such  songs  and  ballads  is  Mrs.  Campbell's  and  Cecil 
J.  Sharp's  English  Folk  Songs  from  the  Southern  Ap 
palachians  (1917).  Tunes  as  well  as  texts  are  entered 
in  this  collection,  and  the  same  is  true  of  the  smaller 
Folk  Songs  of  the  Kentucky  Mountains  (1917)  of 
Josephine  McGill,  and  Lonesome  Tunes  by  Loraine 
Wyman  and  Howard  Brockway  (1916).  Western 
cowboy  songs,  both  oral  verse  and  book  verse,  were 
collected  and  published  in  two  volumes  by  John  A. 
Lomax,  Cowboy  Songs  (1914)  and  Songs  of  the  Cow 


INTRODUCTION  xxxi 

Camp  and  the  Cattle  Trail  (1919).  N.  Howard  Thorp's 
Songs  of  the  Cowboys,  with  an  introduction  by  Alice 
Corbin  Henderson,  appeared  in  1921.  W.  Roy 
Mackenzie  has  printed  a  number  of  texts  salvaged  in 
Nova  Scotia  in  The  Quest  of  the  Ballad  (1919).  Many 
interesting  texts  have  been  published  in  the  Journal 
of  American  F oik-Lore  by  such  scholars  as  G.  L. 
Kittredge,  H.  M.  Belden,  Phillips  Barry,  E.  C.  Perrow, 
A.  H.  Tolman,  and  Arthur  Beatty.  The  late  Professor 
H.  G  Shearin  listed  and  analyzed  the  folk-songs  of 
the  Cumberland  region  in  Kentucky;  Phillips  Barry 
has  done  the  same  thing  for  the  North  Atlantic  states, 
and  H.  M.  Belden  for  Missouri.  Professor  C.  Alphonso 
Smith,  as  archivist  of  the  Virginia  Folk-Lore  Society, 
has  done  much  to  preserve  the  oral  verse  of  Virginia, 
and  Professor  John  H.  Cox  has  collected  the  traditional 
verse  of  West  Virginia.  The  game  and  nursery  songs 
of  American  children  constitute  a  part  of  oral  literature 
in  America.  The  pioneer  collector  and  editor  of  them 
is  W.  W.  Newell,  whose  Games  and  Songs  of  American 
Children  (1883)  is  a  credit  to  American  scholarship. 
Of  late  years  his  work  has  been  supplemented  by  the 
studies  of  others  in  various  volumes  of  The  Journal  of 
American  Folk-Lore.  A  few  ballad  texts  have  been 
preserved  in  articles  in  popular  periodicals.  The 
general  subject  of  balladry  in  America  has  been  treated 
in  the  present  writer's  chapter  on  "Oral  Literature  in 
America,"  published  in  the  Cambridge  History  of 
American  Literature,  Volume  IV  (1921),  and  in  several 
sections  of  her  Poetic  Origins  and  the  Ballad  (1921). 
Professor  H.  M.  Belden  has  written  of  balladry  in 
America  and  of  the  relation  of  balladry  to  folk-lore  in 
inaugural  addresses  as  president  of  the  American 
Folk-Lore  Society.  And  Mr.  Phillips  Barry  has 
written  upon  many  special  subjects  connected  with 
American  folk-song  in  the  same  periodical  (The  Journal 


xxxii  INTRODUCTION 

of  American  F oik-Lore)  which  contains  the  addresses 
of  Professor  Belden. 

X.  Among  the  most  characteristically  American  of 
our  folk-songs  are  slave-songs,  and  plantation  songs, 
and  negro  or  pseude-negro  songs,  comic  or  pathetic. 
These  constitute  a  separate  subject  and  they  deserve 
treatment  in  a  separate  anthology  of  Afro-American 
song.  Besides  these,  as  characteristically  American 
in  flavor,  should  come  Western  and  frontier  pieces, 
as  Starving  to  Death  on  a  Government  Claim,  or  The 
Dreary  Black  Hills,  and  American  humorous  songs, 
like  Joe  Bowers  or  Johnny  Sands.  Apart  from  these 
two  groups,  most  of  our  American  traditional  songs 
have  upon  them  the  stamp  of  the  Old  World  and  fall 
into  Old  World  patterns.  Prevailingly  they  are  tragic 
pieces.  Their  "strong  situations"  keep  them  alive 
and  they  derive  from  or  are  parallel  to  British  songs. 
Usually  they  have  exaggerated  plots  and  often  they 
have  exaggerated  morals.  There  are  confessions  of 
murder,  like  Young  McFee,  and  there  are  many  confes 
sion  and  death-bed  pieces  in  general.  The  Butcher's 
Boy  is  one  of  the  most  widely  circulated  oral  ballads  in 
the  language.  It  is  known  from  Nova  Scotia  to  Texas. 
The  Boston  Burglar  has  equally  wide  currency.  Both 
are  serious  pieces  and  both  are  of  British  adaptation. 
The  murder  ballad  is  a  type  which  still  springs  up 
occasionally,  like  the  ballads  of  the  Meeks  murder  in 
Missouri  chronicled  by  Professor  H.  M.  Belden. 
Professor  W.  R.  Mackenzie  has  recorded  some  murder 
ballads  from  Nova  Scotia,  and  Professor  H.  G.  Shearin 
found  a  number  in  the  Cumberland  mountains.  But, 
like  all  ballads  which  chronicle  local  events,  this  type 
is  likely  to  be  short-lived.  In  general  the  gloomy 
themes,  especially  the  songs  of  domestic  crime,  which 
pleased  earlier  centuries  did  not  give  the  same  pleasure 


INTRODUCTION  xxxiii 

in  the  late  nineteenth  century,  and  they  do  not  please 
the  earlier  twentieth  century.  The  sentimental  songs 
of  the  present  do  not  show  the  elegiac  or  " complaint" 
turn  of  the  older  songs  but  tend  to  be  humorous  or 
happier.  On  the  whole,  the  emotional  pitch  of  Ameri 
can  pieces  is  low,  especially  when  they  are  placed  in 
comparison  with  their  European  analogues.  This  is  true 
both  for  earlier  pieces  and  for  songs  of  the  present  day. 
It  is  of  interest  to  trace  the  waves  of  popularity 
which  arise  and  fade  for  types  of  popular  song  as  they 
do  for  verse  which  is  to  be  read.  The  types  of  leading 
interest  to  be  noted  for  the  nineteenth  century  include 
the  slave  songs,  comic  songs,  and  general  negro  songs 
which  were  popularized  by  troupes  of  negro  singers 
and  by  the  old-time  "minstrel"  troupes  of  whites. 
There  was  a  wave  of  temperance  songs  of  which  a  few 
pieces  remain,  like  Don't  Go  out  Tonight,  Dear  Father, 
The  Drunkard's  Lone  Child,  The  Teetotallers  are  Coming. 
Ballads  and  songs  of  the  drunkard,  and  especially  of 
the  drunkard's  child,  once  played  a  considerable  r61e. 
There  were  many  campaign  and  camp  songs  of  the 
Civil  War  period,  but  they  have  nearly  disappeared. 
Still  rememberable  is  the  rise  to  popularity  of  "coon" 
songs,  one  of  which,  Ta-ra-ra-ra  boom  de  ay,  found  its 
way  into  European  circulation.  "  Coon  "  songs  proved, 
however,  so  slight  in  text  and  so  indefinite  in  structure 
that  they  retained  little  foothold  in  traditional  song. 
Nor  are  the  succeeding  "rag-time"  songs  or  "jazz" 
songs  likely  to  leave  much  of  a  legacy.  There  is  little 
in  their  texts  which  is  distinctive  enough  to  lodge  in  the 
memory.  No  clear-cut  story  holds  them  together,  and 
the  taste  to  which  they  appeal  is  transitory.  Some 
contribution  to  folk-tradition  should  be  made  by  the 
songs  which  were  universalized  in  the  days  of  the 
World  War;  but  it  is  yet  too  early  to  predict  which,  if 
any  of  them,  will  endure.  A  characteristic  which 


xxxiv  INTRODUCTION 

distinguishes  the  serious  songs  of  our  own  day,  in 
contrast  with  those  popular  earlier,  is  their  "glad" 
note,  their  optimistic  endeavor  to  look  on  the  bright 
side  of  things;  this  is  evidenced  by  such  songs  as 
Smile,  Smile,  Smile,  or  Pack  up  Your  Troubles  in  Your 
Old  Kit  Bag.  There  was  a  stronger  military  note  in 
the  songs  emerging  from  earlier  American  wars;  and 
the  zest  for  fighting  which  was  characteristic  of  the 
songs  of  mediaeval  wars  is  somewhat  conspicuously 
wanting  in  the  songs  popularized  by  the  war  which 
has  passed. 

When  set  over  against  Old-World  texts  brought 
together  by  collectors,  the  American  texts  of  the  same 
songs  seem  noticeable  for  their  brevity.  Possibly  the 
same  curtailment  might  be  apparent  for  British  texts 
of  the  present,  when  compared  with  their  earlier  coun 
terparts;  but  it  is  certain  that  existing  American 
variants  show  marked  abridgment  alongside  the 
versions  current  across  the  Atlantic.  Even  when  an 
immigrant  piece  has  not  been  shortened  as  to  the 
number  of  its  stanzas  or  lines,  there  is  likely  to  be  loss 
in  the  details  of  narration.  That  there  is  no  shrinkage 
in  length  may  be  the  result  merely  of  garrulous  pro 
traction  or  repetition,  arising  as  essential  features  are 
lost.  The  American  tendency  toward  brevity  may 
be  viewed  as  the  result  of  the  decaying  influence  of 
time  and  migration;  or  it  may  be  looked  upon  as  part 
of  the  general  trend  toward  shortening  seen  in  the 
drama,  the  essay,  and  prose  fiction,  as  well  as  in  verse 
narratives.  Neither  twentieth  century  singers  nor 
twentieth  century  audiences  have  the  patience  and 
the  sustained  interest  which  were  characteristic  of 
days  less  hurried  and  eager  for  variety.  When  every 
thing  else  has  been  shortened  or  is  in  the  process  of 
shortening,  it  should  not  be  surprising  that  folk-songs 
have  shortened  too. 


INTRODUCTION  xxxv 

XL  The  interest  in  floating  pieces  that  linger  from 
generation  to  generation  in  popular  song  is  partly 
literary  and  partly  sociological.  They  have  no  salient 
historic  value  but  they  convey  clear  impressions  of  a 
state  of  society.  On  the  surface  there  is  difference  for 
different  generations  and  for  different  regions,  in  song 
modes,  types  of  plots,  types  of  characters,  and  social 
views.  Below  the  surface  appears  the  same  round  of 
simpler  feelings,  jealousies,  ambitions,  disappointments, 
characteristic  of  human  nature  in  all  periods.  Impres 
sive  stories  or  situations  are  set  forth  in  simple  types  of 
verse.  Occasionally  the  interest  of  the  student  of 
literature  lies  in  flashes  of  poetic  value  or  suggestions 
of  wistful  beauty.  He  comes  upon  passages  of  unex 
pected  charm.  More  often  it  is  the  unconsciousness  / 
and  frankness  of  the  narrative,  the  total  suppression  of  / 
comment  and  of  superfluous  matter,  that  appeals  to 
the  reader,  by  virtue  of  the  contrast  which  it  affords 
with  book  verse.  This  frank  unconscious  note  which 
is  the  chief  source  of  their  appeal  belongs  par  excellence 
to  the  middle  period  of  a  ballad's  history.  Sometimes 
the  earliest  texts  are  complex,  then  simplification  ap 
pears,  dramatic  situations  are  brought  into  the  fore 
ground,  superfluous  details  are  lopped  off,  and  links 
drop  from  sight.  Only  the  simpler  and  more  impressive 
stanzas  are  preserved.  Some  instances  in  point  are 
Jemmy  and  Nancy  (Pretty  Nancy  of  Yarmouth)  and 
The  Babes  in  the  Wood.  The  original  text  of  Pretty 
Nancy,  with  its  references  to  "The  Barbados  Lady," 
is  semi-literary  and  has  as  many  as  288  lines.  Its 
derivative  from  the  Appalachian  region  telling  of 
"the  perbadus  lady"1  is  on  its  way  toward  incoherent 
trash.  Bishop  Percy's  text  of  The  Babes  in  the  Wood 


1  Campbell  and  Sharp,  English  Folk  Songs  from  the  Southern  Ap 
palachians,  No.  53. 


xxxvi  INTRODUCTION 

has  twenty-two  stanzas  and  shows  completeness  and 
literary  finish.  Most  current  versions  of  this  song 
have  no  more  than  three  or  four  stanzas.  When  ballads 
are  in  their  decadence  they  sink  to  the  fragmentary, 
vulgarized,  garrulous,  or  inconsequent,  or  they  die 
away  in  burlesque.  The  appeal  has  gone  and  the  text 
is  of  interest  chiefly  as  exhibiting  the  last  stage  of  a 
process.  But  the  frank  unconscious  note  of  popular 
song  is  not  to  be  thought  of  as  the  especial  property  of 
mediaeval  peasant  throngs  or  minstrels.  It  is  recurrent 
for  traditional  songs  of  all  ages  and  all  regions.  It  may 
be  found  in  many  of  the  songs  in  the  following  pages  as 
well  as  in  the  older  ballads  of  England  and  Scotland. 


ENGLISH  AND  SCOTTISH 

BALLADS 
IN  AMERICA 


AMERICAN  BALLADS   AND  30NGS         3 

1 
(A)     JOHNNY  RANDALL 

"Where  was  you  last  night,  Johnny  Randall,  my  son? 
Where  was  you  last  night,  my  heart's  loving  one?" 
"A-fishing,  a-fowling;  mother,  make  my  bed  soon, 
For  I'm  sick  at  my  heart,  and  I  fain  would  lie  down." 

"What  had  you  for  breakfast,  my  own  pretty  boy? 
What  had  you  for  breakfast,  my  heart's  loving  joy?" 
"Fresh  trout  and  slow  poison;  mother,  make  my  bed 

soon, 
For  I'm  sick  at  my  heart,  and  I  fain  would  lie  down." 

"What  will  you  will  your  brother,  my  own  pretty  boy? 
What  will  you  will  your  brother,  my  heart's  loving 

joy?" 

"  My  horse  and  my  saddle ;  mother,  make  my  bed  soon, 
For  I'm  sick  at  my  heart,  and  I  fain  would  lie  down." 

"What  will  you  will  your  sister,  my  own  pretty  boy? 
What  will  you  will  your  sister,  my  heart's  loving  joy?" 
"My  watch  and  my  fiddle,  mother  make  my  bed  soon, 
For  I'm  sick  at  my  heart,  and  I  fain  would  lie  down." 

"What  will  you  will  your  mother,  my  own  pretty  boy, 
What  will  you  will  your  mother,  my  heart's  loving 

joy?"  " 

"A  twisted  hemp  rope,  for  to  hang  her  up  high; 
Mother,  make  my  bed  easy  till  I  lie  down  and  die." 


4         AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND  SONGS 
(B)     JIMMY  RANDOLPH 

"What  you  will  to  your  father,  Jimmy  Randolph  my 

son? 
What  you  will  to  your  father,  my  oldest,   dearest 

one?" 

"My  horses,  my  buggies,  mother  make  my  bed  soon, 
For  I  am  sick-hearted,  and  I  want  to  lie  down." 

"What  you  will  to  your  brothers,  Jimmy  Randolph  my 

son? 

What  you  will  to  your  brothers,  my  oldest  dearest  one?  " 
"My  mules  and  my  waggons,  mother  make  my  bed 

soon, 
For  I  am  sick-hearted,  and  I  want  to  lie  down." 

"What  you  will  to  your  sisters,  Jimmy  Randolph  my 

son, 

What  you  will  to  your  sisters,  my  oldest  dearest  one?" 
"My  gold  and  my  silver,  mother  make  my  bed  soon, 
For  I  am  sick-hearted  and  I  want  to  lie  down." 

2 
(A)    LORDLOVEL 

Lord  Lovel  was  standing  at  his  castle  gate, 

A-combing  his  milk-white  steed, 
When  up  stepped  Lady  Nancy  Belle, 

A-wishing  her  lover  good  speed,  speed,  speed, 

A-wishing  her  lover  good  speed. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS         5 

"Where  are  you  going,  Lord  Lovel?"  she  said, 

"Where  are  you  going?"  said  she. 
"I'm  going,  my  love,"  Lord  Lovel  replied. 

"New  countries  for  to  see,  see,  see, 

New  countries  for  to  see." 

Lord  Lovel  was  gone  just  a  year  and  a  day, 

New  countries  for  to  see, 
When  languishing  thoughts  came  over  his  mind, 

Lady  Nancy  he  must  go  see,  see,  see, 

Lady  Nancy  he  must  go  see. 

He  mounted  upon  his  milk-white  steed, 

And  rode  to  far  London  town. 
And  there  he  heard  St.  Patrick's  bells, 

And   the   people   came   mouining,   around,   round, 
round, 

And   the   people    came   mourning   around. 

"0  who  hath  died?"  Lord  Lovel  said, 

"0  who  hath  died?"  said  he. 
"A  lady  hath  died,"  a  woman  replied, 

"And  they  call  her  Lady  Nancy,  -cy,  -cy, 

And  they  call  her  Lady  Nancy." 

He  ordered  her  grave  to  be  opened  wide, 

Her  shroud  to  be  folded  down, 
And  there  he  kissed  her  pale  cold  cheeks 

Till  the  tears  came  trinkling  down,  down,  down, 

Till  the  tears  came  trinkling  down. 


6         AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Lady  Nancy  she  died  on  Good  Friday, 
Lord  Lovel  he  died  on  the  morrow; 

Lady  Nancy  she  died  for  pure  true  love, 
Lord  Lovel  he  died  for  sorrow. 


(B)     LORD   LOVER 

"O  where  are  you  going,  Lord  Lover,"  said  she, 

"O  where  are  you  going?"  said  she. 
"1  am  going,  my  Lady  Nancy  Bell, 

Foreign  countries  for  to  see." 

"How  long  will  you  be  gone,  Lord  Lover?"  said  she, 
"How  long  will  you  be  gone?"  said  she. 

"A  year  or  two  or,  the  fartherest,  three, 
Then  return  to  my  Lady  Nancy." 

He  had  not  been  gone  but  a  year  and  a  day, 

Foreign  countries  for  to  see, 
Till  wondering  thoughts  came  over  him, 

"Lady  Nancy  Bell  I  must  go  see." 


He  rode  and  he  rode  on  his  mule  quite  stay, 

Till  he  come  to  London  town. 
And  there  he  heard  St.  Patrick's  bells 

And  the  people  all  morning  around. 

"0  what  is  the  matter?"  Lord  Lover,  said  he, 
"0  what  is  the  matter?"  said  he. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS         7 

"Lord,  a  lady  is  dead,"  an  old  lady  said, 
"And  her  name  was  Lady  Nancy." 

He  ordered  her  grave  to  be  opened  wide, 

Her  shroud  to  be  torn  down, 
And  there  he  kissed  her  cold  pale  lips, 

Till  the  tears  came  trinkling  down. 

Lady  Nancy  was  buried  in  the  cold  church  ground. 

Lord  Lover  was  buried  close  by  her; 
And  out  of  her  bosom  there  grew  a  rose, 

And  out  of  Lord  Lover's  a  briar. 

They  grew  and  they  grew  to  the  church  steeple  high, 

Till  they  could  grow  no  higher. 
And  there  they  tied  in  a  true  lover's  knot 

For  all  true  lovers  to  admire. 


(A)     BARBERY  ALLEN 

It  was  early  in  the  month  of  May, 
The  rosebuds  they  were  swelling; 

Little  Jimmy  Grooves  on  his  deathbed  lay 
For  the  love  of  Barbery  Allen. 

He  sent  his  servant  into  the  town 
Where  she'd  been  lately  dwelling, 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Saying,  "Bring  to  me  those  beautiful  cheeks, 
If  her  name  be  Barbery  Allen." 

So  he  arose  and  he  left  the  room 
Where  she'd  been  lately  dwelling, 

Saying,  "You've  been  called  upon  this  eve, 
If  your  name  be  Barbery  Allen." 

Then  she  arose  and  went  to  the  room 

Where  Jimmy  was  a-lying, 
And  these  were  the  words  she  seemed  to  say: 

"Young  man,  I  think  you're  dying." 

"That's  so,  that's  so,  my  love,"  said  he, 

"I'm  in  a  low  condition; 
One  kiss  from  you  would  comfort  me 

If  your  name  be  Barbery  Allen." 

"  One  kiss  from  me  you'll  never  receive 

Although  you  are  a-dying"; 
And  every  tongue  did  seem  to  say 

"Hard-hearted  Barbery  Allen." 

"O  don't  you  remember  a  long  time  ago, 

Way  down  in  yonder  tavern, 
Where  you  drank  your  health  to  the  ladies  all, 

But  you  slighted  Barbery  Allen?" 

"  Yes,  I  remember  a  long  time  ago, 
Way  down  in  yonder  tavern, 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS         9 

Where  I  drank  my  health  to  the  ladies  all; 
But  my  love  was  to  Barbery  Allen." 

She  had  not  gone  more  than  half  a  mile 

Till  she  saw  the  corpse  a-coming; 
Saying,  "Lay  those  corpse  before  my  eyes 

That  I  may  look  upon  them." 

The  more  she  looked  the  more  she  wept, 

Till  she  burst  out  a-crying; 
And  then  she  kissed  those  tear  cold  cheeks 

That  she  refused  when  dying. 

"O  mamma,  mamma,  go  make  my  bed, 

Go  make  it  long  and  narrow; 
Little  Jimmy  Grooves  has  died  of  love, 

And  I  will  die  of  sorrow. 

"O  mamma,  mamma,  go  make  my  bed, 

Go  make  it  long  and  narrow; 
Little  Jimmy  Grooves  has  died  today, 

And  I  will  die  tomorrow." 

Little  Jimmy  was  buried  in  the  new  churchyard 

And  Barbery  close  beside  him, 
And  out  of  his  grave  grew  a  red  rose, 

And  out  of  hers  a  briar. 

They  grew  and  grew  to  the  old  church  top 
Till  they  both  could  grow  no  higher, 

And  they  both  were  tied  in  a  true-lover's  knot, 
The  red  rose  and  the  briar. 


10       AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS 
(B)     BARBARA  ALLEN 

Honor,  Honor,  is  the  town 

In  which  three  maids  were  dwelling. 

There  is  only  one  I  call  my  own, 
Her  name  is  Barbara  Allen. 

He  sent  his  servant  to  her  town 
And  he  sent  him  to  her  dwelling. 

"My  master,  0  he's  very  sick 
For  the  love  of  Barbara  Allen." 

Slowly,  slowly  she  rose  up, 
And  to  his  bedside  was  going. 

She  pulled  the  curtains  to  aside 

And  said  "Young  man,  you're  a-dying.'' 

He  stretched  out  his  pale  white  hand, 

Expecting  to  touch  hers, 
She  hopped  and  skipped  all  over  the  floor 

And  "Young  man,  I  won't  have  ye." 

Sweet  William  died  on  Saturday  night, 

And  Barbara  on  Sunday. 
The  Old  Woman  died  last  of  all, 

She  died  on  Easter  Monday. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       11 

4 
(A)     THE  TWO  SISTERS 

"O  sister,  O  sister,  come  go  with  me, 
Go  with  me  down  to  the  sea/' 

Jury  flower  gent  the  rose-berry, 
The  jury  hangs  over  the  rose-berry. 

She  picked  her  up  all  in  her  strong  arms 
And  threwed  her  sister  into  the  sea. 

"  O  sister,  O  sister,  give  me  your  glove, 
And  you  may  have  my  own  true  love. 

"O  sister,  O  sister,  give  me  your  hand, 
And  you  may  have  my  house  and  land." 

"O  sister,  0  sister,  I'll  not  give  you  my  hand. 
And  I  will  have  your  house  and  land." 

O  the  farmer's  wife  was  sitting  on  a  rock. 
Tying  and  a-sewing  of  a  black  silk  knot. 

"  0  farmer,  O  farmer,  run  here  and  see 
What's  this  a-floating  here  by  me." 

"It's  no  fish  and  it's  no  swan, 

For  the  water's  drowned  a  gay  lady." 


12       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

The  fanner  run  with  his  great  hook 
And  hooked  this  fair  lady  out  of  the  sea. 

"0  what  will  we  do  with  her  fingers  so  small?" 
"We'll  take  them  and  we'll  make  harp  screws." 

"O  what  will  we  do  with  her  hair  so  long?" 
"We'll  take  it  and  we'll  make  harp  strings." 

0  the  farmer  was  hung  by  the  gallows  so  high, 
And  the  sister  was  burned  at  the  stake  close  by. 

(B)  THE  OLD  MAN  IN  THE  NORTH  COUNTREE 

There  was  an  old  man  in  the  North  Countree, 

Bow  down 
There  was  an  old  man  in  the  North  Countree, 

And  a  bow  'twas  unto  me 
There  was  an  old  man  in  the  North  Countree, 
He  had  daughters  one,  two,  three. 

I'll  be  true  to  my  love  if  my  love  is  true  to  me. 

There  was  a  young  man  came  a-courting 
And  he  made  choice  of  the  youngest  one. 

He  gave  his  love  a  beaver  cape; 

The  second  she  thought  much  of  that. 

"Sister,  0  sister,  let  us  go  down 
And  see  the  ships  go  sailing  by." 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       13 

As  they  was  a-walking  by  the  saucy  brimside 
The  oldest  pushed  the  youngest  in. 

"Sister,  0  sister  lend  me  your  hand,  a 
And  I'll  give  you  my  house  and  land." 

"What  care  I  for  house  and  lands? 

All  that  I  want  is  your  true  love's  hand." 

Down  she  sunk  and  away  she  swam 
Till  she  came  to  the  miller's  mill-dam. 

The  miller  ran  out  with  his  fish-hook 
And  fished  the  maiden  out  of  the  brook. 

"The  miller  shall  be  hung  on  his  own  mill-gate 
For  drownding  my  poor  sister  Kate." 

5 

(A)     THE  JEWISH  LADY 

It  rained  a  mist,  it  rained  a  mist, 

It  rained  all  over  the  land; 
Till  all  the  boys  throughout  the  town 

Went  out  to  toss  their  ball,  ball,  ball, 

Went  out  to  toss  their  ball. 

At  first  they  tossed  their  ball  too  high, 
And  then  again  too  low, 


14       AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS 

Till  over  in  the  Jewish  garden  it  fell, 
Where  no  one  was  darst  to  go,  go,  go, 
Where  no  one  was  darst  to  go. 

Out  came  a  Jewish  lady, 

All  dressed  so  gay  and  fine. 
"Come  in,  my  pretty  little  boy/'  she  said, 

"And  you  shall  have  your  ball,  ball,  ball, 

And  you  shall  have  your  ball." 

At  first  she  showed  him  a  yellow  apple  dish, 

And  a  gay  gold  ring, 
And  then  a  cherry  as  red  as  blood, 

To  entice  this  little  boy  in,  in,  in, 

To  entice  this  little  boy  in. 

She  took  him  by  his  little  white  hand, 
And  led  him  through  the  hall, 

And  then  unto  a  cellar  so  deep, 

Where  no  one  could  hear  him  lament,  lament, 
Where  no  one  could  hear  him  lament. 

"  If  any  of  my  playmates  should  call  for  me, 

You  may  tell  them  that  I'm  asleep; 
But  if  my  mother  should  call  for  me, 

You  may  tell  her  that  I  am  dead, 
And  buried  with  a  prayer-book  at  my  feet, 

And  a  bible  at  my  head,  head,  head, 

And  a  bible  at  my  head." 


AMERICAN  BALLADS   AND  SONGS       15 
(B)     THE  JEW  LADY 

My  ball  flew  over  in  a  Jew's  garden, 

Where  no  one  dared  to  go, 
I  saw  a  Jew  lady  in  a  green  silk  dress 

A-standing  by  the  do'. 

"Come  in,  come  in,  my  pretty  little  boy, 

You  may  have  your  ball  again." 
"I  won't,  I  won't,  I  won't  come  in, 

Because  my  heart  is  blood." 

She  took  me  then  by  her  lily-white  hand, 

And  led  me  in  the  kitchen, 
She  sot  me  down  on  a  golden  chair, 

And  fed  me  on  sugar  and  rice. 

She  took  me  then  by  her  lily-white  hand, 

And  led  me  in  the  kitchen, 
She  laid  me  down  on  a  golden  plank, 

And  stobbed  me  like  a  sheep. 

"You  lay  my  Bible  at  my  head, 

And  my  prayer  book  at  my  feet, 
And  if  any  of  my  playmates  they  ask  for  me, 

Just  tell  them  I've  gone  to  sleep." 


16      AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

6 

(A)    THE  WIFE  WRAPPED  IN  A  WETHER'S 

SKIN 

Sweet  William  married  him  a  wife, 

Jennifer  June  and  the  Rosemaree 
To  be  the  sweet  comfort  of  his  life. 

As  the  dew  flies  over  the  green  vallee. 

It's  she  couldn't  into  the  kitchen  go, 
For  fear  of  soiling  her  white-heeled  shoes. 

It's  she  couldn't  wash  and  she  wouldn't  bake, 
For  fear  of  soiling  her  white  apron-tape. 

It's  she  couldn't  card  and  she  wouldn't  spin, 
For  fear  of  spoiling  her  delicate  skin. 

Sweet  William  came  whistling  in  from  the  plow; 
Says,  "O  my  dear  wife,  is  my  dinner  ready  now?" 

She  called  him  a  dirty  paltry  whelp: 

"If  you  want  any  dinner,  go  get  it  yourself." 

Sweet  William  went  out  unto  the  sheepfold, 
And  out  a  fat  wether  he  did  pull. 

Upon  his  knees  he  did  kneel  down, 
And  soon  from  it  did  strip  the  skin. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       17 

He  laid  the  skin  on  his  wife's  back 

And  he  made  the  stick  go  whickety  whack. 

"I'll  tell  my  father  and  all  his  kin 
How  you  this  quarrel  did  begin." 

"  You  may  tell  your  father  and  all  your  kin 
How  I  have  thrashed  my  fat  wether's  skin." 

Sweet  William  came  whistling  in  from  the  plow, 
Says,  "O  my  dear  wife,  is  my  dinner  ready  now?" 

She  drew  her  table  and  spread  her  board, 

And  'twas  "O  my  dear  husband,"  with  every  word. 

And  now  they  live  free  from  all  care  and  strife, 
And  now  she  makes  William  a  very  good  wife. 

(B)     DANDOO 

A  little  old  man  li ved  in  the  west, 

Dandoo,  dandoo 
A  little  old  man  lived  in  the  west, 

Clamadore  clash  may  clings 
A  little  old  man  lived  in  the  west, 
He  had  a  little  wife  that  was  none  of  the  best. 

And  a  lambo  scrambo  churum  churum 

Calla  may  clash  may  clings. 

This  little  old  man  came  in  from  his  plow, 
Saying,  "Honey  have  you  got  my  breakfast  now?" 


18       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND   SONGS 

"There  lays  a  piece  of  cold  bread  on  the  shelf. 
If  you  want  any  more  you  can  get  it  yourself." 

He  drew  the  old  wether  up  to  the  pin, 
And  at  three  jerks  fetched  off  his  skin. 

He  threw  the  sheep's  skin  around  his  wife's  back, 
And  two  little  sticks  went  whickety  whack. 


(A)     CHILDREN'S  SONG 

The  starry  light  and  the  lady  bright, 

Her  children  she  had  three. 
She  sent  them  away  to  the  North  country 

To  learn  those  gramerie. 

They  hadn't  been  gone  but  a  very  short  time, 

Scarce  three  months  and  a  day, 
Till  death  came  rushing  along  over  the  land 

And  swept  those  babes  away. 

Their  mother  came  as  far  to  know, 

She  wrung  her  hands  full  sore. 
"The  less,  the  less,  the  less!"  she  cried, 

"Shall  I  see  my  babes  no  more?" 

"There  were  a  king  in  heaven,"  she  said, 
"That  used  to  wear  a  crown; 


AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS        19 

Send  all  my  three  little  babes  tonight 
Or  in  the  morning  soon." 

Or  Christmas  times  were  drawing  nigh, 

The  nights  were  long  and  cold; 
Her  three  little  babes  came  rushing  along 

Down  to  their  mother's  hall. 

She  fixed  them  a  table  in  the  dining  room. 
Spread  over  with  bread  and  wine; 

Saying,  "Eat,  O,  eat  my  sweet  little  babes; 
Come  eat  and  drink  of  mine." 

"Mama,  we  cannot  eat  your  bread, 

Nor  we  can't  drink  your  wine ; 
For  yonder  stands  our  Saviour  dear, 

And  to  him  we'll  return." 

She  fixed  them  a  bed  in  the  backmost  room, 

Spread  over  with  a  clean  sheet, 
And  a  golden  wine  upon  the  top  of  them 

To  make  them  sweeter  sleep. 

"Take  it  off,  take  it  off,"  says  the  oldest  one, 

"The  cocks  they  will  soon  crow; 
For  yonder  stands  our  Saviour  dear, 

And  to  him  we  must  go. 

"Cold  clods  lays  on  our  feet,  mama; 

Green  grass  grows  over  our  heads; 
The  tears  that  run  all  down  our  cheeks 

Did  wet  the  winding  sheets." 


20       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 
(B)     THREE  LITTLE  BABES 

Christmas  time  was  drawing  near 
And  the  nights  were  growing  cold, 

When  three  little  babes  came  running  down 
Into  their  mother's  fold. 


She  spread  a  table  long  and  wide, 

And  on  it  put  bread  and  wine. 
"Come  eat,  come  drink,  my  sweet  little  babes; 

Come  eat  and  drink  of  mine." 


"We  want  none  of  your  bread,  mother, 

We  want  none  of  your  wine, 
For  yonder  stands  our  blessed  Lord 

And  to  Him  we  will  join." 

She  made  a  bed  in  the  very  best  room, 

And  on  it  put  clean  sheets, 
And  over  the  top  a  golden  spread, 

The  sweeter  they  might  sleep. 

"Take  it  off,  take  it  off,"  cried  the  eldest  one, 

"Take  it  off,"  cried  he, 
"For  I  would  not  stay  in  this  wicked  world, 

Since  Christ  has  died  for  me. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       21 

"A  sad  farewell,  kind  mother  dear, 

We  give  the  parting  hand, 
To  meet  again  on  that  fair  shore 

In  Canaan's  happy  land. 

"A  tombstone  at  our  head,  mother, 

The  cold  clay  at  our  feet; 
The  tears  we  have  shed  for  you,  mother, 

Have  wet  these  winding  sheets." 

8 
THE  CRUEL  BROTHER 

Three  ladies  played  at  cup  and  ball, — 

With  a  hey!  and  my  lily  gay! 
Three  knights  there  came  among  them  all. 

The  rose  it  smells  so  sweetly. 

And  one  of  them  was  dressed  in  green, — 
He  asked  me  to  be  his  queen. 

And  one  of  them  was  dressed  in  yellow, — 
He  asked  me  to  be  his  fellow. 

And  one  of  them  was  dressed  in  red, — 
He  asked  me  with  him  to  wed. 

"But  you  must  ask  my  father  the  King, 
And  you  must  ask  my  mother  the  Queen, — 


22       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND   SONGS 

"And  you  must  ask  my  sister  Anne, 
And  you  must  ask  my  brother  John." 

"O  I  have  asked  your  father  the  King, 
And  I  have  asked  your  mother  the  Queen, — 

"And  I  have  asked  your  sister  Anne, 
And  I  have  asked  your  brother  John." 

Her  father  led  her  down  the  stairs, 
Her  mother  led  her  down  the  hall. 

Her  sister  Anne  led  her  down  the  walk, 
Her  brother  John  put  her  on  her  horse. 

And  as  she  stooped  to  give  him  a  kiss, 
He  stuck  a  penknife  into  her  breast. 

"Ride  up,  ride  up,  my  foremost  man! 
Me  thinks  my  lady  looks  pale  and  wan!" 

"O  what  will  you  leave  to  your  father  the  King?" 
"The  golden  coach  that  I  ride  in." 

"And  what  will  you  leave  to  your  mother  the 

Queen?" 
"The  golden  chair  that  I  sit  in." 

"And  what  will  you  leave  to  your  sister  Anne?" 
"My  silver  brooch  and  golden  fan." 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       23 

"And  what  will  you  leave  to  your  brother  John?" 
"A  pair  of  gallows  to  hang  him  on." 

"And  what  will  you  leave  to  your  brother  John's 

wife?" 
"Grief  and  misfortune  all  her  life." 

9 
EDWARD 

"How  come  that  blood  on  your  shirt  sleeve, 

Pray  son,  now  tell  to  me?" 
"It  is  the  blood  of  the  old  greyhound, 

That  run  young  fox  for  me." 

"It  is  too  pale  for  that  old  greyhound, 

Pray  son,  now  tell  to  me." 
"It  is  the  blood  of  the  old  grey  mare, 

That  ploughed  that  corn  for  me." 

"  It  is  too  pale  for  that  old  grey  mare, 

Pray  son,  now  tell  to  me." 
"It  is  the  blood  of  my  youngest  brother 

That  hoed  that  corn  for  me." 

"What  did  you  fall  out  about, 

Pray  son,  now  tell  to  me?" 
'  Because  he  cut  yon  holly  bush 

Which  might  have  made  a  tree." 


24       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"O  what  will  you  tell  to  your  father  dear, 
When  he  comes  home  from  town?" 

"I'll  set  my  foot  in  yonder  ship 
And  sail  the  ocean  round." 

"  0  what  will  you  do  with  your  sweet  little  wife. 

Pray  son,  now  tell  to  me?" 
"  I'll  set  her  foot  in  yonder  ship 

To  keep  me  company." 

"O  what  will  you  do  with  your  three  little  babes, 

Pray  son,  now  tell  to  me?" 
"I'll  leave  them  here,  in  the  care  of  you, 

For  to  keep  you  company." 

"  0  what  will  you  do  with  your  house  and  your  land, 

Pray  son,  now  tell  to  me?" 
"I'll  leave  it  here,  in  care  of  you, 

For  to  set  my  children  free." 


10 
THE  LOWLANDS  LOW 

Up  then  spake  our  noble  cabin  boy, 
Saying,  "What  will  you  give  me  if  I  will  them  destroy? 
If  I  will  them  destroy,  send  them  floating  o'er  the  tide, 
And  sink  them  in  the  Lowlands,  the  Lowlands  low, 
And  sink  them  in  the  Lowlands  low?  " 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       25 

"0  the  man  that  them  destroys/'  the  captain  made 

reply, 

"A  fortune  he  shall  have  and  my  daughter  to  wife, 
A  fortune  he  shall  have  and  my  daughter  beside, 
If  he'll  sink  them  in  the  Lowlands,  the  Lowlands  low, 
If  he'll  sink  them  in  the  Lowlands  low." 

The  one  was  playing  at  cards  and  the  other  playing  at 

dice, 

The  boy  swam  up  and  he  scuttled  them  so  nice, 
He  scuttled  them  so  nice,  sent  them  floating  with  the 

tide, 

And  sank  them  in  the  Lowlands  low, 
And  sank  them  in  the  Lowlands  low. 

The  boy  swam  first  unto  the  starboard  side, 
Saying,  "Captain  pick  me  up  for  I'm  wearied  with  the 
tide, 

0  Captain  pick  me  up  for  I'm  wearied  with  the  tide 
And  I'm  sinking  in  the  Lowlands,  the  Lowlands  low, 
And  I'm  sinking  in  the  Lowlands  low." 

"O  no,"  replied  the  Captain,  "I  will  not  pick  you  up, 

1  will  sink  you,  I  will  shoot  you,  send  you  floating  with 

the  tide, 
I  will  sink  you,  I  will  shoot  you,  send  you  floating  with 

the  tide, 

And  I'll  sink  you  in  the  Lowlands,  the  Lowlands  low, 
And  I'll  sink  you  in  the  Lowlands  low." 


26       AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

The  boy  swam  round  unto  the  larboard  side, 

Saying,  "Messmates,  pick  me  up,  for  I'm  wearied  with 

the  tide, 
0  messmates,  pick  me  up  for  I'm  wearied  with  the 

tide. 

And  I'm  sinking  in  the  Lowlands,  the  Lowlands  low, 
And  I'm  sinking  in  the  Lowlands  low." 

His  messmates  picked  him  up,  and  on  the  deck  he  died. 
They  sewed  him  up  in  his  hammock  so  wide, 
They  sewed  him  up,  sent  him  floating  with  the  tide, 
And  they  sank  him  in  the  Lowlands,  the  Lowlands  low, 
And  they  sank  him  in  the  Lowlands  low. 

11 
THREE  SAILOR  BOYS 

Up  spoke  the  man  of  our  gallant  ship, 

And  a  well  spoken  man  was  he, 
Saying,  "I  married  me  a  wife  in  a  far  distant  town, 

And  tonight  a  widow  she  will  be,  be,  be, 

And  tonight  a  widow  she  will  be." 

For  the  roaring  sea,  they  do  roar,  O  roar, 

And  the  stormy  winds  they  do  blow, 

As  the  three  poor  sailor  boys  they  were  mounted 

up  aloft, 
While  the  love  land  was  lying  down  below,  down 

below, 
While  the  love  land  was  lying  down  below. 


AMERICAN   BALLADS   AND   SONGS       27 

Up  spoke  the  boy  of  our  gallant  ship, 

And  a  well  spoken  boy  was  he, 
Saying,  "I  have  a  true  love  in  a  far  distant  town, 

And  tonight  she'll  be  wailing  for  me,  for  me, 

And  tonight  she'll  be  wailing  for  me." 

Up  spoke  the  girl  of  our  gallant  ship, 
And  a  well  spoken  girl  was  she, 

Saying,  "I  have  been  used  to  sleeping  on  a  soft  feather 

bed, 

And  tonight  on  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  the  sea, 
And  tonight  on  the  bottom  of  the  sea." 

Up  spoke  the  cook  of  our  gallant  ship, 
And  a  greasy  old  thing  was  she, 

Saying,  "I  can  have  more  fun  with  my  kettles  and  my 

pots 

Than  to  sink  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  the  sea, 
Than  to  sink  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea." 

Six  times  around  sails  our  gallant  ship, 

Six  times  around  sails  she, 
Six  times  around  sails  our  gallant  ship, 

And  she  sank  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  the  sea, 

And  she  sank  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

12 
LORD  THOMAS 

Lord  Thomas  he  was  a  bold  forester, 
The  chaser  of  the  king's  deer; 


28       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Fair  Ellen  she  was  a  sweet  young  lady, 
Lord  Thomas  he  loved  her  dear. 

"Come  riddle  my  riddle,  dear  mother,"  he  said, 

"  Come  riddle  it  all  in  one, 
Whether  I  shall  marry  fair  Ellen  or  no 

Or  bring  the  brown  girl  home." 

"  The  brown  girl  she  has  houses  and  land, 

Fair  Ellen  she  has  none, 
So  I  advise  you  with  rny  blessing 

To  bring  the  brown  girl  home." 

Lord  Thomas  he  dressed  in  scarlet  red, 

His  merry  men  all  were  seen, 
And  as  he  rode  along  the  street, 

They  took  him  to  be  a  king. 

He  rode  till  he  came  to  fair  Ellen's  gate, 

He  knocked  loud  at  the  ring, 
And  who  was  there  but  fair  Ellen  herself 

To  let  Lord  Thomas  in? 

"What  news,  what  news?"  fair  Ellen  said, 
"What  news  have  you  brought  me?" 

"I've  come  to  invite  you  to  my  wedding, 
Most  miserable  news  for  thee." 

"0  God  forbid,"  fair  Ellen  she  said, 
"That  such  a  thing  should  be  done, 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       29 

I  thought  to  be  the  bride  myself 
And  thou  shouldst  be  the  groom." 

"Come  riddle  my  riddle,  dear  mother,"  she  said, 

"Come  riddle  it  all  in  one, 
Whether  I  shall  go  to  Lord  Thomas'  wedding, 

Or  shall  I  stay  at  home?" 

"  O  to  Lord  Thomas'  wedding  don't  go, 
To  Lord  Thomas'  wedding  don't  go; 

As  many  as  are  your  friends,  dear  daughter, 
There's  more  will  be  your  foes." 

"To  Lord  Thomas'  wedding  I'll  go,"  she  said, 
"To  Lord  Thomas'  wedding  I'll  go, 

If  it  costs  my  heart's  blood,  body  and  all, 
To  Lord  Thomas'  wedding  I'll  go." 

Fair  Ellen  she  dressed  in  scarlet  red, 

Her  merry  maids  all  were  seen, 
And  as  she  rode  along  the  street 

They  took  her  to  be  a  queen. 

She  rode  till  she  came  to  Lord  Thomas'  gate, 

She  knocked  loud  at  the  ring. 
And  who  was  there  but  Lord  Thomas  himself 

To  let  fair  Ellen  in. 

He  took  her  by  her  lily-white  hand, 
He  led  her  through  the  hall ; 


30       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

He  placed  her  on  the  noblest  chair 
Among  the  ladies  all. 

"Is  this  your  bride?"  fair  Ellen  said, 
"I  think  she  is  wonderful  brown, 

You  might  have  had  as  fair  a  young  lady 
As  ever  put  foot  on  ground." 

"Despise  her  not,"  Lord  Thomas  he  said, 

"Despise  her  not  unto  me; 
Better  I  love  your  little  ringer 

Than  the  brown  girl's  whole  body." 

The  brown  girl  she  had  a  little  pen-knife, 

It  was  both  keen  and  sharp; 
Betwixt  the  long  ribs  and  the  short 

She  pierced  fair  Ellen's  heart. 

"What  ails,  what  ails?"  Lord  Thomas  he  said, 
"I  think  you  are  wonderful  pale; 

You  used  to  have  so  fair  a  color, 
As  ever  a  rose  could  bloom." 

"O  are  you  blind,"  fair  Ellen  said, 
"Or  can  you  not  very  well  see? 

O  don't  you  see  my  own  heart's  blood 
Go  trickling  down  my  knee?" 

Lord  Thomas  he  had  a  two-edged  sword, 
He  flourished  it  all  around; 


AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS       31 

He  took  the  brown  girl's  head  from  the  shoulders 
And  threw  it  to  the  ground. 

He  put  the  handle  on  the  ground, 

The  point  was  towards  his  heart. 
Those  three  true  lovers  they  very  well  met, 

But  sadly  they  did  depart. 

"0  dig  my  grave/'  Lord  Thomas  he  said, 

"  Dig  it  both  wide  and  deep, 
And  lay  fair  Ellen  in  my  arms, 

And  the  brown  girl  at  my  feet." 

Out  of  Lord  Thomas  there  grew  a  golden  briar, 

And  out  of  fair  Ellen  a  thorn ; 
Those  three  true  lovers  they  very  well  met, 

But  better  they'd  never  been  born. 

13 
THE  HANGMAN'S  SONG 

"  Hangman,  hangman,  slack  up  your  rope, 

O  slack  it  for  a  while, 
I  looked  over  yonder  and  I  see  Paw  coming, 

He's  walked  for  many  a  long  mile." 

"Say  Paw,  say  Paw,  have  you  brung  me  any  gold, 

Any  gold  for  to  pay  my  fine?" 
"No  sir,  no  sir,  Pve  brung  you  no  gold, 


32       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

No  gold  for  to  pay  your  fine, 
But  I'm  just  come  for  to  see  you  hanged, 
Hanged  on  the  gallows  line." 

"O  you  won't  love  and  it's  hard  to  be  beloved 
And  it's  hard  to  make  up  your  time, 

You  have  broke  the  heart  of  many  a  true  love, 
True  love,  but  you  won't  break  mine." 

"  Hangman,  hangman,  slack  up  your  rope, 

O  slack  it  for  a  while, 
I  looked  over  yonder  and  I  see  Maw  coming, 

She's  walked  for  many  a  long  mile." 

"Say  Maw,  say  Maw,  have  you  brought  me  any 
gold, 

Any  gold  for  to  pay  my  fine?" 
"No  sir,  no  sir,  I've  brought  you  no  gold, 

No  gold  for  to  pay  your  fine, 
But  I'm  just  come  for  to  see  you  hanged, 

Hanged  on  the  gallows  line." 

"O  you  won't  love  and  it's  hard  to  be  beloved, 
And  it's  hard  to  make  up  your  time, 

You  have  broken  the  heart  of  many  a  true  love, 
True  love,  but  you  won't  break  mine." 


"  Hangman,  hangman,  slack  up  your  rope, 
O  slack  it  for  a  while, 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       33 

I  looked  over  yonder  and  I  see  my  sweetheart 

coming, 
She's  walked  for  many  a  long  mile." 

"Sweetheart,  sweetheart,  have  you  brought  me 
any  gold, 

Any  gold  for  to  pay  my  fine?" 
"  Yes  sir,  yes  sir,  I've  brought  you  some  gold, 

Some  gold  for  to  pay  your  fine, 
For  I'm  just  come  for  to  take  you  home, 

From  on  the  gallows  line." 

14 
LORD  BAYHAM 

Lord  Bayham  was  a  brave  young  man, 

He  was  as  brave  as  brave  could  be; 
He  grew  oneasy  and  discontented 

Till  he  had  taken  a  voyage  to  sea. 

He  was  blown  east,  he  was  blown  west, 
He  was  blown  to  some  Turkish  shore, 

Where  the  Turks  they  got  him  and  sorely  used  him; 
He  vowed  for  freedom  any  more. 

They  bored  a  hole  through  his  left  shoulder, 

And  bound  him  fast  unto  a  tree, 
And  gave  him  nothing  but  bread  and  water, 

Bread  and  water  once  a  day. 


34       AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS 

The  Turks  they  had  one  only  daughter, 

She  was  as  fair  as  fair  could  be; 
She  stole  the  keys  of  her  father's  prison, 

And  vowed  Lord  Bayham  she  would  set  free. 

"  O  have  you  land,  or  have  you  living, 

Or  have  you  houses,  many,  free, 
That  you  could  give  to  a  Turkish  lady 

If  out  of  prison  she;d  set  you  free?" 

"Yes,  I  have  land  and  I  have  living, 

And  I  have  houses,  many  free, 
I'll  give  them  all  to  you,  pretty  creature, 

If  out  of  prison  you'll  set  me  free." 

She  led  him  down  to  her  father's  cellar, 
And  drawed  to  him  the  best  port  wine, 

And  drank  a  health ;  those  words  did  follow, 
"Lord  Bayham,  if  you  were  but  mine!" 

O  now  the  notes  of  love  were  drawn, 
And  seven  years  they  were  to  stand; 

He  was  to  marry  no  other  woman, 
Unless  she  married  some  other  man. 

She  led  him  down  to  the  sea  shore, 

And  sat  him  sailing  on  the  main. 
"Farewell,  farewell,  my  own  dear  jewel, 

When  shall  I  see  your  fair  face  again!" 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       35 

Seven  years  were  gone  and  past, 

And  seven  weeks  and  almost  three, 
She  bundled  up  her  silks  and  rubies, 

And  vowed  Lord  Bay  ham  she  would  see. 

And  when  she  got  to  Lord  Bayham's  gate, 
She  knocked  so  loud  she  made  it  ring. 

" Who's  there?   Who's  there?"   cried   the  young 

proud  porter, 
''That  knocks  so  loud  and  won't  come  in." 

"  Is  this  Lord  Bayham's  land  and  living? 

Or  is  Lord  Bayham  himself  at  home?" 
"This  is  Lord  Bayham's  land  and  living. 

He  has  this  day  fetched  a  young  bride  home." 

"  I've  a  gold  ring  on  every  finger, 

And  on  my  middle  finger  three. 
I'll  give  them  all  to  you,  young  proud  porter, 

If  you  will  do  one  thing  for  me.      ... 

"Go  down  into  your  father's  cellar, 

And  draw  to  me  the  best  port  wine, 
And  drink  a  health  to  a  prince's  daughter, 

Who  freed  you  from  your  prison  bound." 

He  went  unto  his  master  dear, 

And  fell  low  down  upon  his  knees. 
"Rise  up,  rise  up,  you  young  proud  porter, 

What  news  have  you  brought  unto  me?" 


36       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"This  seven  weeks  I  kept  your  gates, 

And  seven  weeks  and  almost  three, 
There's  the  fairest  lady  stands  at  your  gates 

That  ever  my  two  eyes  did  see. 

"She  has  a  gold  ring  on  every  ringer, 

And  on  the  middle  finger  three; 
She  has  more  fine  gold  around  her  waist 

Than  would  buy  old  England,  France,  and  thee." 

Lord  Bayham  rose  upon  his  feet, 

And  split  his  table  in  pieces  three, 
Saying,  "I'll  forfeit  all  my  land  and  living 

That  the  Turkish  lady  has  crossed  the  sea." 

Then  up  bespoke  the  young  bride's  mother, 

Those  words  in  anger  she  did  say; 
"Would  you  forsake  my  own  dear  daughter, 

And  marry  a  Turkish  lady?" 

He  says,  "Here  is  your  daughter  as  I  got  her. 

I'm  sure  she  is  none  the  worse  of  me. 
She  came  to  me  on  a  horse  and  saddle, 

I'll  send  her  home  in  her  coach  and  three." 

He  took  Susan  by  her  little  white  hands, 
And  led  her  down  the  golden  stream, 

And  changed  her  name  from  lovely  Susan, 
And  called  her  Lord  Bayham's  queen. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       37 

15 
LITTLE  MATTHY  GROVES 

The  first  come  down  was  a  raven  white, 

And  the  next  come  down  was  a  polly, 

And  the  next  come  down  was  Lord  Thomas's  wife, 

And  she  was  the  fairest  of  them  all,  all, 

And  she  was  the  fairest  of  them  all. 

Little  Matthy  Groves  was  a-standing  by; 
She  placed  her  eyes  on  him, 
Saying:  "You're  the  darling  of  my  heart 
And  the  darling  of  my  life. 

"It's  you  no  home,  no  place  to  lie, 

Go  home  with  me  this  night." 

"I  think  by  the  rings  you  wear  on  your  fingers 

You  are  Lord  Thomas's  wife." 

"True  I  am  Lord  Thomas's  wife, 

Lord  Thomas  is  not  at  home." 

The  little  foot-page  was  a-standing  by, 

These  words  heareth  he, 

And  he  licked  to  his  heels  and  run. 

He  run,  he  run  to  the  broken-down  bridge, 
He  bent  to  his  breast  and  swum; 
He  swum,  he  swum  to  the  other,  other  side, 
And  he  buckled  up  his  shoes  and  he  run. 


38       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

He  run,  he  run  to  Lord  Thomas's  gate, 
And  he  dingled  at  the  ring  and  it  rung, 
And  he  dingled  at  the  ring  and  it  rung. 
"What  news,  what  news,  my  little  foot-page? 
What  news  you've  brought  to  me?  " 
"Little  Mat  thy  Groves  is  at  your  house 
In  bed  with  the  gay  lady." 

"If  that  be  a  lie  you've  brought  to  me, 

And  a  lie  I  expect  it  to  be, 

If  there  is  e'er  a  green  tree  in  these  whole  worlds, 

A  hangman  you  shall  be. 

"If  that  be  the  truth  you've  brought  to  me, 
And  the  truth  I  don't  expect  it  to  be, 
You  may  wed  my  youngest  daughter, 
And  you  may  have  all  I've  got." 

Lord  Thomas's  wife  raised  up  about  half  a  doze  asleep. 
"Lay  still,  lay  still,"  little  Matthy  Groves  says, 
"Lay  still,  I  tell  to  thee, 

For  it's  nothing  but  your  father's  little  shepherd  boy 
A-driving  the  wolves  from  the  sheep." 

When  little  Matthy  Groves  did  wake 

Lord  Thomas  was  at  his  feet. 

"Rise  up,  rise  up,"  Lord  Thomas  he  says, 

"And  put  your  clothing  on, 

For  it  never  shall  be  known  in  old  England 

That  I  slew  a  naked  man. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       39 

"How  can  I  rise  up,  "he  says, 

"When  I  am  afeard  of  my  life? 

For  you  have  two  good  broad-edged  swords 

And  I  have  not  so  much  as  a  knife." 

"True  I  have  two  good  broad  swords, 
They  cost  me  deep  in  the  purse. 
But  you  may  have  the  very  best  one, 
And  you  may  have  the  first  lick." 

The  very  first  lick  little  Matthy  Groves  struck, 
He  struck  him  across  the  head, 
And  the  very  next  lick  Lord  Thomas  he  struck, 
And  it  killed  little  Matthy  Groves  dead. 

He  took  his  gay  lady  by  the  hand, 
And  he  led  her  up  and  down. 
He  says:  "How  do  you  like  my  blankets 
And  how  do  you  like  my  sheets?  " 

"Well  enough  your  blankets, 

And  well  enough  your  sheets, 

But  much  better  do  I  love  little  Matthy  Groves 

Within  my  arms  asleep." 

He  took  his  gay  lady  by  the  hand, 
And  he  pulled  her  on  his  knee, 
And  the  very  best  sword  that  he  did  have 
He  split  her  head  into  twine. 


40       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

16 
SWEET  WILLIAM 

Sweet  William  arose  on  last  May  morning, 

And  dressed  himself  in  blue; 
"Come  tell  unto  me  that  long,  long  love 

Between  Lyddy  Margret  and  you." 

"I  know  no  haim  of  Lyddy  Margret,  my  love, 

I'm  sure  she  knows  none  of  me ; 
By  eight  o'clock  tomorrow  morning 

Lyddy  Margret  my  bride  shall  see." 

Lyddy  Margret  was  sitting  in  her  own  bower  room 

A-combing  her  yellow  hair; 
She  saw  Sweet  William  and  his  new  bride 

As  they  came  riding  near. 

Lyddy  Margret  threw  down  her  golden  comb, 

And  quickly  she  bound  up  her  hair; 
And  away  she  went  from  her  own  bower  room, 

No  more  to  be  seen  there. 

The  day  being  past  and  night  come  on 

When  all  men  were  asleep, 
Lyddy  Margret's  ghost  came  about  midnight 

And  stood  at  Sweet  William's  bed  feet. 

"How  do  you  like  your  bed?"  she  said, 
"How  do  you  like  your  sheet; 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       41 

How  do  you  like  that  fair  ladie 
That  lies  in  your  arms  asleep?" 

"Very  well  I  like  my  bed,"  he  said, 

"Very  well  I  like  my  sheet; 
But  better  I  like  the  fair  ladie 

That  stands  at  my  bed  feet." 

The  night  being  gone  and  day  come  on, 

When  all  men  were  awake ; 
Sweet  William  he  rose  with  trouble  on  his  mind 

From  the  dream  that  he  dreamed  last  night. 

"Such  dreams,  such  dreams  as  I  dreamed  last  night, 

Such  dreams  are  never  good ; 
I  dreamed  my  room  was  full  of  wild  swine, 

My  bride  bed  full  of  blood." 

Sweet  William  he  called  his  merry  men  all 

By  ones,  by  twos,  by  threes; 
Before  them  all  he  asked  his  bride 

If  Lyddy  Margret  he  might  go  see. 

"What  will  you  do  with  Lyddy  Margret,  my  love, 

And  what  will  you  do  with  me?" 
"Today  I  go  see  Lyddy  Margret,"  he  said, 

"Tomorrow  return  to  thee." 

He  rode  till  he  came  to  Lyddy  Margret's  hall, 
And  dingled  so  loud  on  the  ring; 


42       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

And  who  so  ready  as  her  own  brothers 
To  rise  and  let  him  come  in? 

"Is  Margret  in  her  own  bower  room, 

Or  is  she  in  her  hall, 
Or  is  she  in  the  kitchen 

Among  her  merry  maids  all?" 

"She's  neither  in  the  kitchen, 

She's  neither  in  her  hall; 
But  she  is  in  her  own  bower  room 

Laid  out  against  the  wall." 

"Raise  up,  raise  up  that  coffin  lid 

So  I  can  gaze  within; 
And  let  me  kiss  her  clay-cold  lips 

Lord  send  it  the  breath  was  in." 

First  he  kissed  her  on  the  cheek, 

And  then  he  kissed  her  chin; 
And  then  he  kissed  her  clay-cold  lips 

That  oft  times  had  kissed  him. 

"Fold  down,  fold  down  those  snowy  white  sheets, 

All  made  of  linen  so  fine; 
Today  they  hang  over  Margret 's  corpse, 

Tomorrow  hang  over  mine." 

Lyddy  Margret  died  it  might  have  been  today, 
Sweet  William  died  tomorrow. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       43 

Lyddy  Margret  died  for  pure,  pure  love, 
Sweet  William  died  for  sorrow. 

Lyddy  Margret  was  buried  in  the  lower  church  yard, 
Sweet  William  was  buried  in  the  higher; 

And  out  of  her  grave  there  sprang  a  red  rose, 
And  out  of  his  grave  a  briar. 

They  grew  and  they  grew  to  the  high  church  top, 

And  then  they  could  grow  no  higher; 
And  there  they  tied  in  a  true  lover's  knot 

The  red  rose  and  the  briar. 

17 
THE  HOUSE  CARPENTER 

"Well  met,  well  met,  my  own  true  love, 

Well  met,  well  met,"  says  he, 
"I've  just  returned  from  the  salt,  salt  sea, 

And  it's  all  for  the  sake  of  thee. 

"  I  could  have  married  a  king's  daughter  fair, 
And  she  fain  would  have  married  me, 

But  I  refused  her  crowns  of  gold, 
And  it's  all  for  the  sake  of  thee." 

"If  you  could  have  married  a  king's  daughter  fair, 
I  think  'twould  have  been  your  plan, 

For  I  have  marry-ed  a  house  carpenter, 
And  I  think  him  a  nice  young  man." 


44       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"If  you'll  forsake  your  house  carpenter, 

And  go  along  with  me, 
I'll  take  you  where  the  grass  grows  green 

On  the  banks  of  Italy." 

She  called  her  babe  unto  her  knee, 

And  kisses  gave  it  three, 
Saying,  "Stay  at  home,  you  pretty  little  babe, 

Keep  your  father's  company." 

She  dressed  herself  in  scarlet  red, 

Most  glorious  to  behold, 
And  as  they  sailed  the  ports  all  round, 

She  shone  like  the  glittering  gold. 

They  had  not  aboard  the  ship  two  weeks, 

I'm  sure  it  was  not  three, 
When  the  fair  lady  began  for  to  weep, 

And  she  wept  most  bitterlally. 

'"O,  is  it  for  my  gold  that  you  weep, 

Or  is  it  for  my  store, 
•Or  is  it  for  your  house  carpenter, 

Whom  you  ne'er  shall  see  no  more?  " 

"  It  is  not  for  your  gold  that  I  weep, 

Nor  neither  for  your  store, 
But  I  do  mourn  for  the  pretty  little  babe 

That  I  left  on  the  other  shore." 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       45 

They  had  not  been  on  board  three  weeks, 

I'm  sure  it  was  not  four, 
When  this  gallant  ship  she  sprang  a  leak, 

And  she  sank  for  to  rise  no  more. 

'  ft 

A  curse,  a  curse  to  that  young  man, 

And  a  curse  to  the  seaman's  life, 
A-robbing  of  the  house  carpenter 

And  a-stealing  away  his  wife! 


18 
TWO  LITTLE  BOYS 

Two  little  boys  going  to  school, 

Two  little  boys  they  be; 
Two  little  boys  going  to  school 

To  learn  their  ABC. 

"O,  will  you  toss  a  ball  with  me, 
Or  will  you  throw  a  stone? 

Or  will  you  wrestle  along  with  me 
On  the  road  as  we  go  home?  " 

"  I  will  not  toss  a  ball  with  you, 

Nor  will  I  throw  a  stone, 
But  I  will  wrestle  along  with  you, 

On  the  road  as  we  go  home." 


46       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

t 
They  wrestled  up,  they  wrestled  down, 

They  wrestled  around  and  around, 
And  a  little  penknife  run  through  John's  pocket, 
And  he  received  a  deadly  wound. 

"Take  off,  take  off  my  fine  cotton  shirt, 

And  tear  it  from  gore  to  gore, 
And  bind  it  around  that  bloody  bloody  wound, 

That  it  may  bleed  no  more." 

So  I  took  off  his  fine  cotton  shirt, 

And  tore  it  from  gore  to  gore, 
And  bound  it  around  that  bloody  bloody  wound, 

So  it  would  bleed  no  more. 

"O  what  shall  I  tell  your  mother,  John, 

If  she  inquires  for  you?" 
"  0,  tell  her  I've  gone  to  the  royal  school 

My  books  to  bring  home." 

"  O  what  shall  I  tell  your  sister,  John, 

If  she  inquires  for  you?" 
"O,  tell  her  I've  gone  down  to  the  city, 

Some  friends  for  to  see." 

"0,  what  shall  I  tell  you  true  love,  John, 

If  she  inquires  for  you?  " 
"O,  tell  her  I'm  dead  and  lying  in  my  grave, 

Way  out  in  Idaho." 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       47 

19 
THE  CHERRY  TREE  CAROL 

When  Joseph  was  an  old  man,  an  old  man  was  he, 
He  married  Virgin  Mary,  the  Queen  of  Galilee. 

As  Joseph  and  Mary  were  walking  one  day 

Here  are  apples,  here  are  cherries,  enough  to  behold. 

Then  Mary  spoke  to  Joseph  so  meek  and  so  mild, 
"Joseph  gather  me  some  cherries,  for  I  am  with  child." 

Then  Joseph  flew  in  anger,  in  anger  flew  he, 

"Let  the  father  of  the  baby  gather  cherries  for  thee." 

Then  Jesus  spoke  a  few  words,  a  few  words  spoke  He, 
"Let  my  mother  have  some  cherries,  bow  low  down, 
Cherry  Tree." 

The  cherry  tree  bowed  low  down,  bowed  low  down 

to  the  ground, 
And  Mary  gathered  cherries  while  Joseph  stood  around. 

Then  Joseph  took  Mary  all  on  his  right  knee: 
"What  have  I  done — Lord  have  mercy  on  me  I" 

Then  Joseph  took  Mary  all  on  his  left  knee: 

"0  tell  me  little  baby,  when  Thy  birthday  will  be?" 

"The  sixth  day  of  January  my  birthday  will  be, 
When  the  stars  in  theirlelements  shall  tremble  with  glee." 


48       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

20 
THE  FALSE  KNIGHT 

" Where  are  you  going?"  said  the  false  knight,  false 
knight, 

"Where  are  you  going? "  said  the  false  knight  Munro. 
"Well,"  said  the  little  boy,  "I'm  going  to  school, 

But  I'll  stand  to  my  book  al-so." 

"What  you  got  in  your  basket?"  said  the  false  knight, 

false  knight, 
"What  you  got  in  your  basket?"  said  the  false 

knight  Munro. 
"Well,"  said  the  little  boy,  "my  breakfast  and  my 

dinner, 
But  I'll  stand  to  my  book  al-so." 

"Give  my  dog  some,"  said  the  false  knight  Munro. 

"Give  my  dog  some,"  said  false  knight  Munro. 
"Well,"  said  the  little  boy,  "I  won't  give  him  none, 

But  I'll  stand  to  my  book  al-so." 

"Then  I'll  pitch  you  in  the  well,"  said  the  false  knight 

Munro, 
"Then  I'll  pitch  you  in  the  well,"  said  the  false 

knight  Munro. 

"Well,"  said  the  little  boy,  "I'll  pitch  you  in  first, 
But  I'll  stand  to  my  book  al-so." 

And  he  pitched  him  in  the  well  and  went  on  to  school. 


OTHER  IMPORTED 
BALLADS  AND 

SONGS 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       51 

21 
(A)  THE  DROWSY  SLEEPER 

"Arouse,  arouse,  ye  drowsy  sleepers, 

Arouse,  arouse,  'tis  almost  day. 
Open  your  door,  your  dining  room  window, 

And  hear  what  your  true  lover  say." 

"What  is  this  that  comes  under  my  window, 

A-speaking  to  me  thus  speedily?" 
"  It  is  your  Jimmy,  your  own  true  Jimmy, 

A-wanting  to  speak  one  word  with  thee." 

"Go  away  from  my  window,  you'll  waken  my  father, 

For  he's  taking  of  his  rest. 
Under  his  pillow  there  lies  a  weapon 

To  pierce  the  man  that  I  love  best. 

"  Go  away  from  my  window,  you'll  waken  my  mother, 

For  tales  of  war  she  will  not  hear. 
Go  away  and  court  some  other, 

Or  whisper  lowly  in  my  ear." 

"I  won't  go  away  and  court  any  other, 

For  here  I  do  no  harm; 
I  only  want  you  from  your  own  dear  mother, 

To  wrap  you  in  your  lover's  arms. 

"I  wish  I  was  down  in  some  lonesome  valley, 
Where  I  could  neither  see  nor  hear. 


52       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

My  food  it  should  be  grief  and  sorrow, 
My  drink  it  would  be  the  briny  tear. 

"  Down  in  a  valley  there  lies  a  sharp  arrow, 

I  wish  I  had  it  across  my  breast; 
It  would  cut  off  all  grief  and  sorrow, 

And  lay  this  troubled  heart  to  rest." 

(B)  WILLIE  AND  MARY 

"O  who  is  at  my  bedroom  window, 
Who  weeps  and  sighs  so  bitterly.     .     .     . 

"O  Mary  dear,  go  ask  your  mother, 
If  you  my  wedded  bride  may  be; 

And  if  she  says  'Nay'  then  come  and  tell  me, 
And  I  no  more  will  trouble  thee." 

"O  Willie  dear,  I  dare  not  ask  her, 

For  she  lies  on  her  bed  of  rest; 
And  by  her  side  there  lies  another.     .     .     . 

"0,  Mary  dear,  go  ask  your  father, 
If  you  my  wedded  bride  may  be; 

And  if  he  says  'Nay'  then  come  and  tell  me, 
And  I  no  more  will  trouble  thee." 

"0  Willie  dear,  I  dare  not  ask  him, 

For  he  is  on  his  bed  of  rest; 
And  by  his  side  there  lies  a  dagger 

To  pierce  the  one  that  I  love  best." 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       53 

Then  Willie  drew  a  silver  dagger 

And  pierced  it  through  his  aching  breast, 

Saying,  his  farewell  to  his  own  true  lover, 
"Farewell,  farewell,  I  am  at  rest." 

Then  Mary  drew  the  bloody  dagger 

And  pierced  it  through  her  snow-white  breast, 

Saying  her  farewell,  "Dear  father,  mother, 
Farewell,  farewell,  we're  both  at  rest."  ^ 


22 
(A)  THE  BAMBOO  BRIARS 

One  night  as  they  was  sitting  courting 
Two  villains  overheard, 
Saying,  "This  courtship  it  shall  be  ended, 
We  will  send  him  along  to  his  grave." 

And  to  conclude  this  bloody  murder 
A-hunting  these  two  villains  did  go. 

They  travelled  over  hills  and  hollows 

And  places  too  that  was  not  known, 

Until  they  came  to  the  bamboo  briars, 

And  there  they  killed  him — killed  and  thrown. 

It  is  "Dear  brothers,  where  have  you  been? 
The  reason  I  ask  you  seems  to  whisper — 
Dear  brothers,  tell  me  if  you  can." 


54       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

One  night  as  she  was  lying  weeping, 

He  came  to  her  in  gory  blood, 

Saying,  "What  do  you  weep  for,  you  harmless  creature? 

Your  brothers  killed  me,  killed  and  thrown. 

"And  was  by  being  both  rash  and  cruel 
In  such  a  place  you  can  me  find." 

She  travelled  over  hills  and  hollows 
And  places  too  that  was  not  known, 
Until  she  came  to  the  bamboo  briars, 
And  there  she  found  him  killed  and  thrown. 

She  stayed  three  days,  hunger  came  on  her, 
Then  she  returned  back  home  again. 

It  is,  "Dear  sister  where  have  you  been? 
The  reason  we  ask  you  seems  to  whisper, 
Dear  sister,  tell  us  if  you  can." 

"You  are  two  hard-hearted,  deceitful  villains, 
For  him  alone  you  both  shall  swing." 
And,  dear  friends,  if  you'll  believe  me, 
The  raging  seas  provide  their  grave. 


(B)  THE  APPRENTICE  BOY 

In  yon  post-town  there  lived  a  margent, 
He  had  two  sons  and  a  daughter  fair : 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       55 

There  lived  a  'prentice  boy  about  there, 
Who  was  the  daughter's  dearest  dear. 

Ten  thousand  pounds  was  this  gay  lady's  portion; 
She  was  a  fair  and  a  camelite  dame; 
She  loved  this  young  man  who  crossed  the  ocean; 
He  told  her  how  he  ^ould  be  so  deslain. 

One  day  they  was  in  the  room  a-courting; 
The  oldest  brother  chanced  to  hear; 
He  went  and  told  the  other  brother, 
They  would  deprive  her  of  her  dear. 

Her  brothers  studied  on  this  cruel  matter, 
Concluded  a-hunting  they  would  go, 
And  with  this  young  man  they  both  would  flatter; 
A-hunting  with  them  he  had  to  go. 

They  traveled  over  high  hills  and  mountains 
And  through  strange  places  where  it  were  unknown, 
Till  at  length  they  came  to  some  lonesome  valley, 
And  then  they  killed  him  dead  and  thrown. 

All  on  that  evening  when  they  returned, 
She  asked  them  where's  her  servant-man; 
"What  makes  me  ask  you?"  she  seems  to  whisper, 
"Dear  brothers,  tell  me  if  you  can." 

"He  is  lost  in  the  wild  woods  a-hunting; 
His  face  you  never  more  shall  see." 


56       AMERICAN   BALLADS   AND   SONGS 

"I'll  tell  you  in  plain,  you're  much  affronted; 
Oh,  now  will  you  explain  to  me." 

All  on  that  night  while  she  lay  sleeping, 
He  came  and  stood  at  her  bed-feet, 
All  covered  o'er  in  tears  a-weeping, 
All  wallowed  o'er  in  gores  of  blood. 

He  says,  "My  love  it's  but  a  folly; 
For  this  is  me  that  you  may  see — 
Your  brothers  both  being  rash  and  cruel — 
In  such  a  valley  you  may  find." 

All  on  next  morning  when  she  arose, 
She  dressed  herself  in  silk  so  fine; 
She  traveled  o'er  high  hills  and  mountains 
Her  own  true-lover  for  to  find. 

She  traveled  o'er  high  hills  and  mountains 
And  through  strange  places  where  it  were  unknown, 
Till  at  length  she  came  to  some  lonesome  valley 
Till  at  length  she  came  to  a  patch  of  briars, 
And  there  she  found  him  killed  and  thrown. 

His  pretty  cheeks  with  blood  were  dyed; 
His  lips  were  bloody  as  any  butcher. 
His  lips  (cheeks)  were  salty  as  any  brine; 
She  kissed  them  over  and  over  a-crying, 
"You  dearest  bosom  friend  of  mine!" 

Three  days  and  night  she  tarried  with  him, 

Till  she  thought  her  heart  would  break  with  woe, 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       57 

Until  sharp  hunger  came  cropping  on  her, 
Which  forced  her  back  home  to  go. 

All  on  that  evening  when  she  returned, 
Her  brothers  asked  her  where  she'd  been— 
"O  ye  hard-hearted  deceitful  devillions, 
For  him  alone  you  both  shall  swing." 

Her  brothers  studied  on  this  bloody  matter 
Concluded  the  ocean  they  would  sail; 
"My  friend,  I  tell  you,  it's  on  the  morrow 
The  raging  sea  there  for  to  sail." 

The  sea  began  to  roar,  I  think  no  wonder 
That  they  two  villyons  should  be  cast  away; 
And  broadways  they  came  tosling  under; 
The  sea  did  open  and  provide  their  grave. 

23 
(A)  THE  BOSTON  BURGLAR 

I  was  born  in  Boston,  a  place  you  all  know  well, 
Brought  up  by  honest  parents,  the  truth  to  you  I'll  tell; 
Brought   up   by   honest   parents  and   watched   most 

tenderly, 
Till  I  became  a  roving  boy  at  the  age  of  twenty-three. 

For  burglaring  I  was  taken  and  I  was  sent  to  jail; 
My  friends  they  came  to  bail  me  out,  but  it  was  of  no 
avail. 


58       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

The  judge  then  read  my  sentence,  the  clerk  he  wrote 

it  down, 
Said,  "For  seven  long  and  weary  years  you're  going 

to  Jefferson  town." 

To  see  my  aged  father  come  pleading  at  the  bar, 

To  see  my  aged  mother  a-pulling  her  gray  hair, 

Yes,  pulling  those  gray  locks,  my  boy,  and  the  tears 

came  streaming  down, 
Said  she,   "My  son,  what  have  you  done?    You're 

going  to  Jefferson  town." 

They  put  me  on  board  an  eastern  train  one  cold  and 

stormy  day, 

And  every  station  that  I  passed  I  heard  the  people  say, 
"There  goes  that  noted  burglar,  in  iron  he's  bound 

down, 
For  robbing  of  the  Boston  bank  he's  going  to  Jefferson 

town." 

There  is  a  girl  in  Boston,  I  know  she  loves  me  well 
If  e'er  I  gain  my  liberty  'tis  with  this  girl  I'll  dwell; 
If  e'er  I  gain  my  liberty,  bad  company  I'll  shun, 
I'll  bid  adieu  to  night-walking  and  also  drinking  rum. 

Come  all  you  jolly  fellows,  a  warning  take  of  me, 
And  never  go  night-walking  and  shun  bad  company, 
For  if  you  do,  you'll  surely  rue,  and  you'll  be  sent 

like  me, 
For  robbing  of  the  Boston  bank  to  the  penitentiary. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       59 

(B)     CHARLESTOWN 

I  was  born  in  Boston  city, 
A  place  you  all  know  well, 
Brought  up  by  honest  parents, 
And  the  truth  to  you  I'll  tell, 
Brought  up  by  honest  parents, 
And  reared  most  tenderly, 
Till  I  became  a  roving  lad 
At  the  age  of  twenty-three. 

My  character  was  taken 

And  I  was  sent  to  jail; 

My  friends  they  tried  to  clear  me, 

But  it  was  of  no  avail. 

The  clerk  he  read  the  charges, 

While  Russell  wrote  it  down, 

Saying,  "For  some  noted  crime,  sir, 

You  are  bound  for  Charlestown." 

To  see  my  poor  old  father 

A-raving  at  the  bar, 

Likewise  my  kind  old  mother, 

A-tearing  out  her  hair, 

While  tearing  out  those  old  gray  locks, 

The  tears  came  rolling  down 

Saying,  "Son,  0  son,  what  has  thou  done? 

You're  bound  for  Charlestown." 

I  was  shipped  on  board  of  an  east-bound 

train, 
One  dark  December  day; 


60       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

And  every  station  I'd  pass  through 

I'd  hear  the  people  say — 

"  There  goes  a  noted  burglar, 

In  irons  he  is  bound, 

And  for  some  noted  crime,  sir, 

He's  bound  for  Charlestown." 

There  lived  in  Boston  city 

A  girl  that  I  loved  well, 

And  if  ever  I  gain  my  liberty 

Along  with  her  I'll  dwell, 

If  ever  I  gain  my  liberty 

Bad  company  I'll  shun 

And  night-walking  and  gambling 

And  likewise  all  bad  rum. 

If  you  that  have  your  liberty 

Just  keep  it  while  you  can, 

And  act  upon  the  square,  my  boy 

Obey  the  laws  of  man ; 

For  if  you  don't  you'll  surely  rue, 

Your  fate  will  surely  be, 

Six  months  in  the  house  erect, 

Or  the  penitentiary. 

24 
(A)     THE  BUTCHER'S  BOY 

In  Jersey  City  where  I  did  dwell 
A  butcher's  boy  I  loved  so  well; 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS        61 

He  courted  me  my  heart  away, 
And  now  with  me  he  will  not  stay. 

There  is  a  house  in  this  same  town, 
Where  my  true  love  goes  and  sits  him  down, 
He  takes  a  strange  girl  on  his  knee, 
And  tells  her  what  he  won't  tell  me. 

Tis  grief,  'tis  grief,  I'll  tell  you  why, 
Because  she  has  more  gold  than  I; 
Her  gold  will  melt  and  silver  fly, 
She'll  see  the  day  she's  poor  as  I. 

I  went  upstairs  to  make  my  bed, 
And  nothing  to  my  mother  said, 
I  took  a  chair  and  sit  me  down, 
With  pen  and  ink  I  wrote  it  down, 

On  every  line  I  dropped  a  tear, 
While  calling  home  my  Willy  dear. 
Her  father  he  came  home  that  night, 
"Where,  O  where  has  my  daughter  gone?" 

He  went  upstairs,  the  door  he  broke, 
And  found  her  hanging  by  a  rope. 
He  took  his  knife  to  cut  her  down, 
And  on  her  bosom  these  lines  he  found: 

"0  what  a  foolish  girl  am  I 

To  kill  myself  for  a  butcher's  boy. 


62       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"Go  dig  my  grave  both  wide  and  deep, 
Place  a  marble  stone  at  my  head  and  feet. 
Upon  my  breast  a  turtle  dove 
To  show  the  world  I  died  for  love." 

(B)     THERE  IS  A  TAVERN  IN  THE  TOWN 

There  is  a  tavern  in  the  town,  in  the  town, 

And  there  my  dear  love  sits  him  down,  sits  him  down, 

And  drinks  his  wine  mid  laughter  free, 

And  never,  never  thinks  of  me. 

Fare  thee  well  for  I  must  leave  thee, 
Do  not  let  this  parting  grieve  thee, 
And  remember  that  the  best  of  friends  must 
part,  must  part. 

Adieu,  adieu,  kind  friends,  adieu, 
I  can  no  longer  stay  with  you,  stay  with  you, 
I'll  hang  my  harp  on  the  weeping  willow  tree 
And  may  the  world  go  well  with  thee. 

He  left  me  for  a  damsel  dark,  damsel  dark, 
Each  Friday  night  they  used  to  spark,  used  to  spark, 
And  now  my  love  once  true  to  me 
Takes  that  dark  damsel  on  his  knee. 

O  dig  my  grave  both  wide  and  deep,  wide  and  deep, 
Put  tombstones  at  my  head  and  feet,  head  and  feet, 
And  on  my  breast  carve  a  turtle  dove 
To  signify  I  died  of  love. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       63 

25 
THE   DEATH  OF  A  ROMISH  LADY 

There  lived  a  Romish  lady 

Brought  up  in  proper  array; 
Her  mother  ofttimes  told  her 

She  must  the  priest  obey. 

"O  pardon  me  dear  mother 

I  humbly  pray  thee  now 
For  unto  these  false  idols 

I  can  no  longer  bow." 

Assisted  by  her  handmaid, 

Her  bible  she  concealed 
And  there  she  gained  instruction 

Till  God  his  love  revealed. 

No  longer  would  she  prostrate 
The  pictures  decked  with  gold; 

But  soon  she  was  betrayed 
Her  bible  from  her  stold. 

"I'll  bow  to  my  dear  Jesus 

And  worship  him  unseen 
And  work  by  faith  unfailing 

The  works  of  men  are  vain. 

"I  can  not  worship  idols 

Nor  pictures  made  by  men 
Dear  mother  use  your  pleasure 

But  pardon  if  you  can." 


64       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

With  grief  and  great  veration 
Her  mother  straight  did  go 

To  inform  the  Romish  clergy 
The  source  of  all  her  woe. 

The  priests  was  soon  assembled 
And  for  the  maid  did  call. 

They  forced  her  in  a  dungeon 
To  affright  her  soul  withal. 

The  more  they  strove  to  affright  her 

The  more  she  did  endure 
Although  her  age  was  tender 

Her  faith  was  firm  and  sure. 

Her  chains  of  gold  so  costly 

They  from  the  lady  took 
And  she  with  all  her  spirit 

The  pride  of  life  forsook. 

Before  the  priests  they  brought  her 

In  hope  of  her  return 
But  there  she  was  ordained 

In  horrid  flames  to  burn. 

Before  the  place  of  torment 
They  brought  her  speedily. 

With  lifted  hands  to  heaven 
She  there  agreed  to  die. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       65 

There  being  many  ladies 

Assembled  at  that  place, 
With  lifted  hands  to  heaven 

She  begged  supporting  grace. 

"Weep  not  ye  tender  ladies, 

Shed  not  a  tear  for  me 
Whilst  my  poor  body's  burning 

My  soul  the  Lord  shall  see. 

"Yourselves  you  need  to  pity 

On  Zion's  deep  decay. 
Dear  ladies,  turn  to  Jesus 

No  longer  make  delay." 

In  comes  her  raging  mother, 

Her  daughter  to  behold; 
And  in  her  hand  she  brought 

An  image  decked  with  gold. 

"O  take  from  me  those  idols 

Remove  them  from  my  sight. 
Restore  to  me  my  Bible 

In  which  I  take  delight. 

"Alas,  my  aged  mother 

On  my  ruin  bent, 
It  was  her  that  did  betray  me; 

But  I  am  innocent. 


66       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"Tormentors,  use  your  pleasure 

And  do  as  you  think  best. 
I  hope  my  blessed  Jesus 

Will  take  me  home  to  rest." 

Soon  as  these  words  were  spoken 

In  comes  the  tyrant  of  death, 
And  kindled  up  the  fire 

To  stop  her  mortal  breath. 

Instead  of  gold  and  bracelets, 
With  chains  they  bound  her  fast; 

She  cried  aloud,  "0  Lord,  give  pardon, 
Or  else  I  sink  at  last. 

"With  Jesus  and  his  angels 

For  ever  I  shall  dwell. 
God  pardon  priest  and  people 

And  so  I  bid  farewell." 

26 
JOHNNY  AND  BETSY 

There  was  an  old  woman  who  lived  on  the  strand, 

And  Johnny  was  her  only  son, 

And  servant  Betsy,  beauty  fair, 

Drew  his  heart  into  a  snare. 

One  evening  Johnny  took  his  time 

To  tell  to  her  what  was  in  his  mind : 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       67 

"0  Betsy,  O  Betsy,  I  love  you  well! 
I  love  you  better  than  tongue  can  tell! 

0  Betsy,  0  Betsy,  I  love  you  dear!" 

His  mother  chanced  these  words  to  hear. 

Then  she  resolved  within  her  mind 

To  stop  these  two  of  their  designs. 

Early  next  morning  when  she  arose 

She  says  to  Betsy,  "Put  on  your  clothes. 

Go  dress  yourself,"  says  she, 

"And  wait  on  me  two  days  or  three." 

Then  o'er  the  country  they  went, 
But  Betsy  knew  not  her  intent. 
There  was  a  ship  lying  in  the  down, 
And  to  Verginny  it  was  bound, 
Where  she  sold  Betsy  across  the  main, 
And  returned  safe  home  to  her  son  again. 

"You're  welcome  home,  dear  mother,"  he  says, 

"But  where  is  Betsy  behind  you  stayed?" 

"O  son,  O  son,  your  love's  in  vain, 

For  we  sold  Betsy  'cross  the  main. 

My  son,  my  son,"  says  she, 

"You're  bringing  scandal  on  you  and  me. 

1  would  rather  see  your  corpse  lie  dead 
Than  to  marry  Betsy,  a  servant  maid." 

"Then  your  desire  you  soon  shall  have, 
If  you'd  rather  see  my  corpse  lie  dead 


68       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Than  to  marry  Betsy,  a  servant  maid!" 

Then  he  took  sick,  0  very  bad, 

No  mirth  nor  music  could  make  him  glad. 

They  sent  for  doctors  far  and  near, 

But  none  of  them  could  Johnny  cheer; 

And  every  doctor  tried  their  skill 

Till  at  last  they  did  poor  Johnny  kill. 

And  when  she  saw  her  son  lie  dead, 
She  rang  her  hands  and  tore  her  head, 
Saying,  "If  life  I  once  could  bring  again, 
I'd  send  for  Betsy  across  the  main! 
If  life  I  once  could  bring  again, 
I  would  send  for  Betsy  across  the  main!" 

27 
THE  SOLDIER 

I  once  knew  a  soldier  just  from  the  war, 
He  courted  a  lady  for  honor  and  for  store; 
The  lady  loved  the  soldier  because  he  was  so  bold. 
So  great  was  her  fortune  it  scarcely  could  be  told. 

"Now,"  said  the  lady,  "I  cannot  be  your  wife, 

For  fear  my  wretched  father  would  shortly  end  your 

life." 

He  drew  a  sword  and  pistol  and  hung  them  by  his  side 
Saying,  "We  will  get  married  and  who  will  betide." 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       69 

They  went  and  got  married  and  coming  back  again, 
They  met  the  wretched  father  with  several  armed  men. 
"Let's  flee,"  said  the  lady,  "for  fear  we  will  be  killed." 
"Hold  on,"  said  the  soldier,  "at  fighting  I  am  skilled." 

Up  stepped  the  old  man,  speaking  very  free, 
Saying,  "Do  you  intend  to  be  a  daughter  unto  me, 
Or  do  you  intend  to  be  a  soldier's  wife? 
Then  in  this  lonesome  valley  I'll  shortly  end  your  life." 

"Now,"  said  the  soldier,  "I  have  no  time  to  tattle, 

I'm  only  one  alone  but  I'm  ready  for  the  battle." 

He  drew  his  sword  and  pistol  and  caused  them  both  to 

rattle. 
The  lady  held  the  horses  while  the  soldier  fought  the 

battle. 

The  first  one  he  came  to  he  run  him  through  the  brain, 
The  next  one  he  came  to  he  served  him  just  the  same. 
"Hold  on,"  said  the  old  man,  "Don't  strike  so  bold, 
And  you  can  have  my  daughter  and  ten  thousand 
pounds  of  gold." 

28 
THE  FARMER'S  BOY 

The  sun  had  set  behind  the  hill  across  the  dreary  moor, 
When  weary  and  lame  a  poor  boy  came  up  to  a  farmer's 
door. 


70       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"Pray  tell  to  me  if  any  there  be  to  give  to  me  employ, 
To  plow  and  sow,  to  reap  and  mow,  and  to  be  a  farmer's 
boy. 

"My  father's  dead,  my  mother's  left  five  children  very 

small, 
And  what  is  worse  for  mother  still  I'm  the  eldest  of 

them  all, 

Though  little  I  be  I  fear  no  work  if  you  will  me  employ, 
To  plow  to  sow,  to  reap  and  mow  and  to  be  a  farmer's 

boy. 

"And  if  you  will  not  me  employ  a  favor  I  have  to  ask. 
Will  you  shelter  me  till  the  break  of  day  from  this  cold 

winter's  blast? 
At  the  break  of  day  I'll  haste  away  elsewhere  to  seek 

employ 
To  plow,  to  sow,  to  reap  and  mow,  and  to  be  a  farmer's 

boy." 

The  farmer  said,  "Pray  take  the  lad,  no  farther  let  him 

seek." 
"0  yes,  dear  father,"  the  daughter  cried,  while  tears 

ran  down  her  cheek, 
Those  that  will  work  'tis  hard  to  want  and  wander  for 

employ, 
To  plow,  to  sow,  to  reap,  to  mow,  and  be  a  farmer's 

boy. 

In  course  of  time  he  grew  to  be  a  man.     This  good  old 
farmer  died, 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       71 

And  he  left  the  lad  the  farm  he  had  and  the  daughter 

for  his  bride. 
Now  the  lad  that  was  the  farmer  is,  he  oft  times  thinks 

with  joy 

Of  the  lucky  day  he  came  that  way  to  be  a  farmer's  boy, 
To  plow,  to  sow,  to  reap  and  mow,  and  to  be  a  farmer's 

boy. 

29 

THE  RICH  YOUNG  FARMER 

There  was  a  rich  young  farmer, 

And  he  was  of  high  renown, 
He  courted  a  fair  and  handsome  daughter, 

As  ever  lived  in  England  town. 

When  her  parents  came  to  know  it, 

It  grieved  their  hearts  full  sore; 
They  said  they'd  send  him  far  over  the  ocean, 

Where  he'd  cease  to  love  no  more. 

One  morning,  O  one  morning, 

One  morning  just  at  dawn, 
As  bold  as  a  ranger  and  just  like  a  stranger 

I  met  my  true  love  a-walking  along. 

"Look  up,  look  up,  my  pretty  fair  maiden, 

O  can't  you  fancy  me?" 
"O  no,  kind  sir,  my  fancy  is  a  farmer, 

And  has  lately  gone  to  sea." 


72       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"Describe  him,  0  describe  him, 

Describe  him  unto  me; 
For  perhaps  I  saw  a  sword  pass  through  him, 

As  Fve  lately  been  to  sea." 

"He  is  proper,  neat,  and  handsome, 

He  is  proper,  neat,  and  tall, 
He  has  long  black  hair  and  he  wears  it  platted, 

Through  a  gay  gold  ring  doth  fall." 

"O  yes,  I  saw  him,  and  I  know  him, 

His  name  is  Thomas  Hall; 
I  saw  a  cannon  ball  pass  through  him, 

And  thus,  fair  lady,  your  lover  did  fall." 

She  stood  wringing  her  lily  white  hands, 
As  though  her  heart  would  break. 

"Hush  up,  hush  up,  my  pretty  fair  maiden, 
Perhaps  I  be  the  very  man." 

She  turned  around  and  looked  upon  him, 

She  turned  and  looked  again. 
She  hopped  and  she  flew  and  she  ran  unto  him, 

And  embraced  him  by  the  hand. 

They  joined  their  loving  hands  together, 
And  straight  to  the  church  did  go, 

And  married  they  never  must  each  other, 
Whether  their  parents  were  willing  or  no. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       73 

30 
THE  LOVER'S  RETURN 

It  was  on  one  munday  morning  in  may 

Down  by  a  flowery  garden  I  chanced  for  to  stray 

I  over  heard  a  fair  maid  with  sorrow  to  complain 
All  on  the  banks  of  clowdy  I  am  told  she  doth  remain. 

I  stepped  away  unto  her  I  took  her  with  surprise 
She  owned  she  did  not  now  me  for  I  was  in  disguise 

Oh  my  handsom  fair  maid  my  joy  and  hearts  delight 
How  far  have  you  to  ramble  this  dark  and  rainy  night 

Kind  sir  away  to  clowdy  would  you  be  pleased  to  show 
Be  kind  unto  a  fair  miss  for  there  I  haf  to  go 

I  am  on  the  search  for  a  young  man  and  lone  is  his  name 
All  on  the  banks  of  clowdy  I  am  told  he  doth  remain. 

It's  on  the  banks  of  clowdy  on  which  you  boldly  stand 
For  dont  you  believe  young  lone  for  he  will  not  meet 

you 
O  dont  you  believe  young  lone  for  he  is  a  faulse  young 

man 

So  stay  with  me  in  the  green  groves  no  danger  need 
fear. 

If  lone  he  was  here  this  night  he  would  keep  me  from 

all  harm 
But  he  is  in  the  field  of  battle  dressed  in  his  uniform 


74       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

He  is  in  the  field  of  Battle  his  foes  he  doth  defy 

He  is  like  the  kings  of  honor  he  is  in  the  wars  to  try 

It  has  been  six  months  or  better  since  lone  left  the  shoro 
A  sailing  the  wide  ocian  where  raging  billows  rore 

A  sailing  the  wide  ocian  with  horror  and  great  gain 
The  ship  has  been  recked  as  I  have  been  told  all  on 
the  cost  of  Spain. 

When  she  heard  this  dreadful  she  sunk  into  dispair 
A  ringing  of  her  hands  and  a  taring  of  her  hair 

Saying  if  lone  he  is  drowned  no  other  will  I  take 
In  some  lonesome  grove  or  vally  I  will  die  for  his  sake. 

When  he  beheld  her  royalty  he  could  no  longer  stand 

He  flew  into  her  arms  crying  Betsy  I  am  the  man 
I  am  your  royal  true  love  the  cause  of  all  your  pain 
And  since  we  have  met  on  dowdy's  banks  we  never 
shall  part  again. 

31 

THE  PRENTICE  BOY 

As  low  in  Cupid's  garden  for  pleasure  I  did  walk 
I  heard  two  loyal  lovers  most  sweetly  for  to  talk 
It  was  a  briske  yong  lady  and  her  prentice  boy 
And  in  private  they  were  courting  and  he  was  all  her 
joy 

He  said  dear  honord  lady  I  am  your  prentice  boy 
How  ever  can  I  thinke  a  fair  lady  to  enjoy 


AMERICAN   BALLADS   AND   SONGS       75 

His  cheeks  as  red  as  roses  his  humor  kind  and  free 
She  said  dear  youth  if  ever  I  wed  I'll  surely  mary  thee. 

But  when  her  parents  came  this  for  to  understand 
They  did  this  young  man  banish  to  some  foreign  land 
While  she  lay  broken  hearted  lamenting  she  did  cry 
For  my  honest  charming  prentice  a  maid  I'll  live  and  die 

This  young  man  to  a  merchant  a  waiting  man  waa 

bound 

And  by  his  good  behaviour  good  fortune  there  he  found 
He  soon  became  his  butler  which  prompted  him  to  faim 
And  for  his  careful  conduct  the  steward  he  became 

For  a  ticket  in  a  lottery  his  money  he  put  down 
And  there  he  gained  a  prize  of  twenty  thousand  pound 
With  store  of  gold  and  silver  he  packed  up  his  close 

indeed 
And  to  England  returned  to  his  true  love  with  speed 

He  offered  kind  embraces  but  she  flew  from  his  arms 
No  lord  duke  or  nobleman  shall  ever  endure  my  charms 
The  love  of  gold  is  cursed  great  riches  I  decry 
For  my  honest  charming  prentice  a  maid  I'll  live  and 
and  die 

He  said  dear  honord  lady  I  have  been  in  your  arms 
This  is  the  ring  you  gave  me  for  toying  in  your  charms 
You  vowed  if  every  you  maried  your  love  I  should 

enjoy 
Your  father  did  me  banish  I  was  your  prentice  boy 


76       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

When  she  beheld  his  features  she  flew  into  his  arms 
With  kisses  out  of  measure  she  did  enjoy  his  charms 
Then  so  through  Cupid's  garden  a  road  to  church  they 

found 
And  there  in  virtuous  pleasure  in  hymen's  band  was 

bound. 

32 

THE  CONSTANT  FARMER'S  SON 

There  was  a  farmer's  daughter  near  Dublin  town  did 

dwell, 
So  modest,  fair  and  handsome,  her  parents  loved  her 

well; 
She  was  admired  by  lord  and  dukes,  but  all  their  hopes 

were  vain. 
There  was  but  one,  a  farmer's  son,  young  Mary's  heart 

could  gain. 

Long  time  young  Willie  courted  her  and  fixed  their 

wedding  day; 
Her  parents  both  they  gave  consent,  but  her  brothers 

they  did  say: 
"There  lives  a  lord  that  pledged  his  word,  and  if  you 

do  him  shun, 
We  will  betray  and  then  will  slay  your  constant  farmer's 


There  was  a  fair  not  far  from  home,  her  brothers  went 
straightway 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       77 

And  asked  Willie's  company  to  pass  the  time  away. 
But,  mark,  returning  home  at  night  they  swore  his 

race  was  run, 
And  with  a  stake  the  life  did  take  of  her  constant 

farmer's  son. 

As  Mary  on  her  pillow  lay  she  dreamed  a  dismal  dream, 
She  dreamt  she  saw  her  true  love's  gore;  the  blood 

appeared  in  streams; 
She  then  arose,  put  on  her  clothes,  to  seek  her  love  did 

run, 
When  dead   and   cold   she   did   behold   her  constant 

farmer's  son. 

The  bitter  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks  and  mingled  with 

his  gore, 
She  cried  in  vain  to  ease  her  pain  and  kissed  him  o'er 

and  o'er; 
She  gathered  green  leaves  from  off  the  trees  to  shade 

him  from  the  sun, 
And  one  night  and  day  was  passed  away  with  her 

constant  farmer's  son. 

But  hunger  it  came  creeping  on,  poor  girl  she  cried  with 

woe, 
And  for  to  find  his  murderers  she  straightway  home  did 

go, 
Saying,  "Parents  dear,  you  soon  shall  hear  of  a  shocking 

deed  that's  done. 
In  yonder  vale  lies  dead  and  pale  my  constant  farmer's 


78       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Then  up  bespoke  her  eldest  brother,  saying,  "Indeed 
it  was  not  me." 

The  same  replied  her  youngest  brother  and  cursed  most 
bitterly. 

"Brothers,"  she  said,  "don't  turn  so  red  or  try  the  law 
to  shun; 

You  did  the  deed  and  sore  you  will  bleed  for  my  con 
stant  farmer's  son." 

These  villains  then  did  own  their  guilt  and  for  the  same 

did  die; 
Young  Mary  fair  in  deep  despair,  she  never  ceased  to 

cry; 
Her  parents  both  they  vanished  away  for  their  span  of 

life  was  run; 
Young  Mary  cried  and  of  sorrow  died  for  her  constant 

farmer's  son. 

33 
MOLLIE  BOND 

Come  all  you  young  men  who  handle  a  gun, 
Be  warned  of  shooting  after  the  down  sun. 

A  story  I'll  tell  you;  it  happened  of  late, 
Concerning  Mollie  Bond,  whose  beauty  was  great. 

Mollie  Bond  was  out  walking,  and  a  shower  came  on; 
She  sat  under  a  beech  tree  the  showers  to  shun. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       79 

Jim  Random  was  out  hunting,  a-hunting  in  the  dark; 
He  shot  at  his  true  love  and  missed  not  his  mark. 

With  a  white  apron  pinned  around  her  he  took  her  for 

a  swan, 
He  shot  and  killed  her,  and  it  was  Mollie  Bond. 

He  ran  to  her;  these  words  to  her  he  said; 
And  a  fountain  of  tears  on  her  bosom  he  shed. 

Saying,  "Mollie,  dear  Mollie,  you're  the  joy  of  my  life; 
I  always  intended  to  make  you  my  wife." 

Jim  ran  to  his  uncle  with  his  gun  in  his  hand, 
Saying,  "Uncle,  dear  uncle,  I've  killed  Mollie  Bond. 

"With  her  apron  pinned  around  her,  I  took  her  for  a 

swan; 
I  shot  and  killed  her,  and  it  was  Mollie  Bond." 

Up  stepped  his  dear  uncle  with  his  locks  all  so  gray, 
Saying,  "Stay  at  home,  Jimmie,  and  do  not  run  away. 

"Stay  in  your  own  country  till  your  trial  comes  on; 
You  shall  not  be  molested  if  it  costs  me  my  farm." 

The  day  of  Jimmy's  trial  Mollie's  ghost  did  appear, 
Saying  to  this  jury,  "Jim  Random  come  clear! 

"With  my  apron  pinned  around  me  he  took  me  for  a 

swan, 
He  shot  and  killed  me  and  now  I  am  gone." 


80       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

34 
MY  FATHER'S  GRAY  MARE 

Young  Roger  the  miller  went  courting  of  late 
A  farmer's  fair  daughter  called  Kate. 

Her  cheeks  like  vermilion  all  painted  with  love, 
She  was  buxom  and  bonny  and  sweet  as  a  dove. 

Then  Roger  being  greedy,  I  do  declare, 
He  spied  the  nag  they  called  the  gray  mare. 

"As  for  your  daughter  I  solemnly  swear, 

I  won't  have  your  daughter  without  the  gray  mare." 

The  old  man  rose  up  with  anger  and  speed, 

"I  thought  you'd  have  married  my  daughter  indeed. 

"But  since  it  is  so  I  am  glad  it  is  thus, 

My  money  once  more  I'll  put  up  in  my  purse. 

"As  for  my  daughter  I  solemnly  swear 

You  can't  have  my  daughter,  no  nor  the  gray  mare." 

When  six  months  were  ended,  or  something  above 
Young  Roger  he  chanced  to  meet  with  his  love. 

"0,"  smiling,  said  Roger,  "and  don't  you  know  me?" 
"If  I  ain't  mistaken,  I've  seen  you,"  said  she. 
"A  man  of  your  likeness,  with  long  yellow  hair, 
Did  once  come  a-courting  my  father's  gray  mare." 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       81 

35 
MARY  0'  THE  WILD  MOOR 


'Twas  on  a  cold  winter's  night 

When  the  wind  blew  across  the  wild  moor, 
That  Mary  came  wandering  home  with  her  child, 

Till  she  came  to  her  own  father's  door. 
"O  father,  dear  father,"  she  cried, 

"Come  down  and  open  the  door, 
Or  the  child  in  my  arms  will  perish  and  die, 

By  the  winds  that  blow  'cross  the  wild  moor." 


"O  why  did  I  leave  this  dear  cot, 

Where  once  I  was  happy  and  free? 
But  now  I  must  roam  without  friends  or  home, 

No  one  to  take  pity  on  me!" 
Her  father  was  deaf  to  her  cries, 

Not  a  sound  of  her  voice  reached  his  ear; 
But  the  watch  dog  he  howled    and  the   village   bell 
tolled, 

And  the  winds  blew  across  the  wild  moor. 


O  how  must  that  old  man  have  felt 

When  he  came  to  the  door  in  the  morn ; 

Poor  Mary  was  dead,  but  her  child  was  alive, 
Closely  pressed  in  its  dead  mother's  arms. 


82       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Half  frantic  he  tore  his  gray  hair, 

And  the  tears  down  his  cheeks  they  did  pour, 
For  on  that  bitter  night  she  had  perished  and  died, 

From  the  winds  that  blew  'cross  the  wild  moor. 

The  old  man  in  grief  pined  away, 

And  the  child  to  its  mother  went  soon; 
And  no  one,  they  say,  has  lived  there  to  this  day, 

And  the  cottage  to  ruin  has  gone. 
The  villagers  point  to  the  spot 

Where  the  ivy  hangs  over  the  door, 
Saying,  "There  Mary  died,  once  a  gay  village  bride, 

By  the  winds  that  blow  'cross  the  wild  moor." 

36 
FATHER  GRUMBLE 

Father  Grumble  he  did  say, 

As  sure  as  the  moss  round  a  tree, 
That  he  could  do  more  work  in  a  day 

Than  his  wife  could  do  in  three,  three, 

Than  his  wife  could  do  in  three. 

Then  Mother  Grumble  she  did  say, 

"O  what's  the  row  now? 
You  can  stay  in  the  house  and  work, 

And  I  will  follow  the  plow,  plow, 

And  I  will  follow  the  plow. 


AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS       83 

"But  don't  forget  the  jar  of  cream 
That  stands  within  the  frame,  frame; 

And  don't  forget  the  fat  in  the  pot, 
Or  it  will  go  into  flame,  flame; 

And  don't  forget  the  fat  in  the  pot, 
Or  it  will  all  go  into  flame. 

"  Don't  forget  the  muley-cow, 

For  fear  she  will  go  dry,  dry; 
And  don't  forget  the  little  pigs 

That  lie  within  the  sty,  sty; 
And  don't  forget  the  little  pigs 

That  lie  within  the  sty. 

"Don't  forget  the  speckled  hen, 

For  fear  she'll  lay  astray,  astray; 
And  don't  forget  the  skein  of  yarn 

That  I  spin  every  day,  day; 
And  don't  forget  the  skein  of  yarn 

That  I  spin  every  day." 

He  went  to  churn  the  jar  of  cream 

That  stood  within  the  frame,  frame; 
And  he  forgot  the  fat  in  the  pot, 

And  it  all  went  into  flame,  flame; 
And  he  forgot  the  fat  in  the  pot, 

And  it  all  went  into  flame. 

He  went  to  milk  the  muley-cow, 
For  fear  she  would  go  dry,  dry; 


84       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

She  reared,  she  kicked,  she  faunched,  she  flinched, 

She  hit  him  over  the  eye,  eye; 
She  reared,  she  kicked,  she  faunched,  she  flinched, 

She  hit  him  over  the  eye. 

He  went  to  watch  the  speckled  hen, 

For  fear  she'd  lay  astray,  astray; 
And  he  forgot  the  skein  of  yarn 

That  she  spun  every  day; 
And  he  forgot  the  skein  of  yarn 

That  she  spun  every  day. 

Old  Father  Grumble  coming  in 

And  looking  very  sad,  sad, 
Old  Mother  Grumble  clapped  her  hands 

And  said  that  she  was  very  glad,  glad; 
Old  Mother  Grumble  clapped  her  hands 

And  said  that  she  was  very  glad. 

37 
GUY  FAWKES 

I'll  tell  you  a  doleful  tragedy — 

Guy  Fawkes,  the  prince  of  sinisters, 

Who  once  blew  up  the  House  of  Lords, 
The  King  and  all  his  ministers; 

That  is,  he  would  have  blown  them  up, 
And  we  would  ne'er  forget  him, 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       85 

His  will  was  good  to  do  the  deed, 
If  they  had  only  let  him. 

Singing  bow — wow — wow, 
Whack  fol — de — riddle, 
Singing  bow — wow — wow. 

Straightway  he  came  from  Lambeth  side 

And  wished  the  State  was  undone ; 
And  crossing  over  Vauxhall  bridge 

That  way  he  came  to  London; 
That  is,  he  would  have  crossed  the  bridge 

To  perpetrate  his  guilt,  sir, 
But  a  trifling  thing  prevented  him, 

The  bridge  it  was  not  built,  sir. 

And  as  he  searched  the  dreary  vaults 

With  portable  gas  light,  sir, 
About  to  touch  the  powder  train 

At  the  witching  hour  of  night,  sir; 
That  is,  he  would  have  used  the  gas, 

Had  he  not  been  prevented; 
But  gas  you  know,  in  James's  time, 

It  hadn't  been  invented. 

Now,  when  they  caught  him  in  the  act, 

So  very  near  the  Crown's  end, 
They  sent  straightway  to  Bow  Street  for 

That  gay  old  runner  Townsend ; 
That  is,  they  would  have  sent  for  him 


86       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

For  danger  he's  no  starter  at, 

But  Townsend  wasn't  living  then, 

He  wasn't  born  till  arter  that. 

So  then  they  put  poor  Guy  to  death 

For  ages  to  remember; 
And  now  they  kill  him  every  year 

In  dreary  dark  November; 
That  is,  his  effigy,  I  mean, 

For  truth  is  strange  and  steady, 
They  cannot  put  poor  Guy  to  death 

For  he  is  dead  already. 

38 
WILLIAM   REILLY'S  COURTSHIP 

'Twas  on  a  pleasant  morning  all  in  the  bloom  of  spring 
When  as  the  cheerful  songsters  in  concert  sweet  did 
sing, 

The  primrose  and  the  daisy  bespangled  every  dawn 
In  an  arbor  I  espied  my  dear  Coolen  Bawn. 

I  stood  awhile  amazed,  quite  struck  with  surprise, 
On  her  with  rapture  gazed  while  from  her  bright  eyes 

She  shot  such  killing  glances  my  heart  away  was  drawn. 
She  ravished  all  my  senses,  my  fair  Coolen  Bawn. 

I  tremblingly  addressed  her:  "Hail,  matchless  fair  maid! 
You  have  with  grief  oppressed  me  and  I  am  much 
afraid. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       87 
t 

Except  you'll  cure  my  anguish  which  now  is  in  its  dawn, 
You'll  cause  my  sad  overthrow,  my  sweet  Coolen 
Bawn." 

Then  with  a  gentle  smile  she  replied  unto  me. 

"I  cannot  tyrannize,  dear  Willie,  over  thee. 
My  father  he  is  wealthy  and  gives  severe  command; 

If  you  but  gain  his  favor,  I'll  be  your  Coolen  Bawn." 

In  raptures  I  embrace  her;  we  swore  eternal  love, 
And  nought  should  separate  us  except  the  power 

above. 

I  hired  with  her  father  and  left  my  friends  and  land 
That  with  pleasure  I  might  gaze  on  my  fair  Coolen 
Bawn. 

I  served  him  twelve  months  right  faithful  and  just, 
Although  not  used  to  labor,  was  true  to  my  trust. 

I  valued  not  my  wages,  I  would  not  it  demand, 
For  I  could  live  for  ages  with  my  Coolen  Bawn. 

One  morning  as  her  father  and  I  walked  out  alone, 
I  asked  him  for  his  daughter  saying:  "Sir,  it  is  well 

known 

I  have  a  well-stocked  farm,  five  hundred  pound  in  hand 
Which  I'll  share  with  your  daughter,  my  fair  Coolen 
Bawn." 

Her  father  full  of  anger  most  scornfully  did  frown, 
Saying,   "Here  are  your  wages.     Now,  sir,  depart 
from  this  town." 


88       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Increasing  still  his  anger  he  bid  me  quick  begone, 
"For  none  but  a  rich  squire  shall  wed  my  Coolen 
Bawn." 

I  went  unto  his  daughter  and  told  her  my  sad  tale. 
Oppressed  with  grief  and  anger  we  both  did  weep 

and  wail. 
She  said,   "My  dearest  Reilly,   the  thought  I  can't 

withstand 

That  in  your  sorrow  you  should  leave  me,  your  own 
dear  Coolen  Bawn." 

A  horse  I  did  get  ready  in  the  silent  night. 

Having  no  other  remedy,  we  quickly  took  our  flight. 
The  horse  he  chanced  to  stumble  and  threw  both  along, 

Confused  and  solely  bruised  me  and  my  dear  Coolen 
Bawn 

Again  we  quickly  mounted  and  swiftly  rode  away. 
O'er  hills  and  lofty  mountains  we  travelled  night 

and  day. 
Her  father  quickly  pursued  us  with  his  well  chosen 

band, 
And  I  was  overtaken  with  my  fair  Coolen  Bawn. 

Committed  straight  to  prison  there  to  lament  and  wail, 
And  utter  my  complaints  to  a  dark  and  dismal  jail, 

Loaded  with  heavy  irons  till  my  trial  should  come  on, 
But  I'll  bear  their  utmost  malice  for  my  dear  Coolen 
Bawn. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       89 

If  it  should  please  kind  fortune  once  more  to  set  me  free, 
For  well  I  know  my  charmer  is  constant  unto  me, 

Spite  of  her  father's  anger,  his  cruelty  and  scorn, 
I  hope  to  wed  my  heart's  delight,  my  dear  Coolen 
Bawn. 

39 
JACK  RILEY 

Jack  Riley  is  my  true  love's  name; 

He  lives  down  by  the  sea, 
And  he  is  as  nice  a  young  man 

As  e'er  my  eyes  did  see. 

My  father  he  is  rich  and  great, 

Jack  Riley  he  is  poor; 
And  because  I  loved  my  sailor  boy 

He  would  not  me  endure. 

My  mother  took  me  by  the  hand ; 

These  words  to  me  did  say, 
"If  you  be  fond  of  Riley, 

You  must  leave  this  counteray. 

"  For  your  father  says  he  will  take  his  life, 

And  that  without  delay. 
So  you  must  either  go  abroad, 

Or  shun  his  company." 


90       AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"O  mother  dear,  don't  be  severe. 

Where  shall  I  send  my  love? 
For  if  father  kills  Jack  Riley 

I  will  meet  him  up  above." 

'0  daughter  dear,  I'm  not  severe. 

Here  is  one  thousand  pounds. 
Send  Riley  to  Amerikay, 
To  purchase  there  some  grounds," 


NATIVE  BALLADS 

AND  SONGS 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       93 

40 
THE  BATTLE  OF  POINT  PLEASANT 

Let  us  mind  the  tenth  day  of  October, 
Seventy-four,  which  caused  woe. 

The  Indian  savages  they  did  cover 
The  pleasant  banks  of  the  Ohio. 

Colonel  Lewis  and  some  noble  Captains, 
Did  down  to  death  like  Uriah  go. 

Alas!  their  heads  are  bound  up  with  napkins, 
Upon  the  banks  of  the  Ohio. 

Seven  score  lay  dead  and  wounded, 
Of  champions  who  did  face  the  foe; 

By  which  the  heathen  were  confounded, 
Upon  the  banks  of  the  Ohio. 

Oh,  bless  the  mighty  king  of  heaven, 
For  all  his  wondrous  works  below, 

Who  hath  to  us  the  victory  given 
Upon  the  banks  of  the  Ohio. 

41 
JAMES  BIRD 

Sons  of  pleasure,  listen  to  me, 
And  ye  daughters,  too,  give  ear, 

You  a  sad  and  mournful  story 
As  was  ever  told  shall  hear. 


94       AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS 

Hull,  you  know,  his  troops  surrendered, 
And  defenseless  left  the  West, 

Then  our  forces  quick  assembled, 
This  invader  to  resist. 

Among  the  troops  that  marched  to  Erie, 
Were  the  Kingston  volunteers; 

Captain  Thomas  then  commanded 
To  protect  our  West  frontiers. 

Tender  was  the  scene  of  parting — 
Mothers  wrung  their  hands  and  cried, 

Maidens  wept  their  love  in  secret, 
Fathers  strove  their  tears  to  hide. 

But  there  was  one  among  that  number, 
Tall  and  graceful  in  his  mien. 

Firm  his  steps,  his  looks  undaunted — 
Ne'er  a  nobler  youth  was  seen. 

One  sweet  kiss  he  snatched  from  Mary, 
Begged  his  mother's  prayers  once  more, 

Pressed  his  father's  hand  and  left  them 
For  Lake  Erie's  distant  shore. 

Mary  strove  to  say,  "Farewell,  James!" 
Waved  her  hand  but  nothing  spoke; 

"Good-bye,  Bird!  May  Heaven  protect  you.3 
From  the  rest  the  parting  broke. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       95 

Soon  they  came  where  noble  Perry 

Had  assembled  all  his  fleet; 
There  the  gallant  Bird  enlisted, 

Hoping  soon  the  foe  to  meet. 

Where  is  Bird?     The  battle  rages; 

Is  he  in  the  strife  or  no? 
Now  the  cannon  roar  tremendous, 

Dare  he  meet  the  furious  foe? 

Ah  behold  him.     See!  with  Perry 

In  the  selfsame  ship  he  fights; 
Though  his  messmates  fall  around  him, 

Nothing  can  his  soul  affright. 

But,  behold,  a  ball  hath  struck  him! 

See  the  crimson  current  flow; 
"Leave  the  deck,"  exclaimed  brave  Perry. 

"No,"  cried  Bird,  "I  will  not  go. 

"Here  on  deck  I've  took  my  station. 

Ne'er  will  Bird  his  colors  fly. 
I'll  stand  by  the  gallant  Captain 

Till  we  conquer  or  we  die!" 

So  he  fought  both  faint  and  bleeding, 
Till  our  stars  and  stripes  arose, 

Victory  having  crowned  our  efforts, 
All  triumphant  o'er  our  foes. 


96       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

And  did  Bird  receive  a  pension? 

Was  he  to  his  friends  restored? 
No,  nor  even  to  his  bosom 

Clasped  the  maid  whom  he  adored. 

But  there  came  most  dismal  tidings 
From  Lake  Erie's  distant  shore; 

Better  if  poor  Bird  had  perished 
Amid  the  battle's  awful  roar. 

"Dearest  parents,"  said  the  letter, 
"This  will  bring  sad  news  to  you. 

Do  not  mourn  your  first  beloved, 
Though  this  brings  his  last  adieu. 

"  I  must  suffer  for  deserting 

From  the  brig  Niagara; 
Read  this  letter,  brother,  sister. 

'Tis  the  last  you  will  hear  from  me." 

Sad  and  gloomy  was  the  morning 
Bird  was  ordered  out  to  die; 

Where  is  the  breast  dares  not  to  pity 
Or  for  him  would  heave  one  sigh? 

O  he  fought  so  brave  at  Erie. 

Nobly  bled  and  nobly  dared, 
Let  his  courage  plead  for  mercy — 

Let  his  precious  life  be  spared! 


AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS       97 

See  him  march;  hear  his  fetters 
Harsh  they  clash  upon  the  ear; 

But  his  step  is  firm  and  manly, 
For  his  breast  ne'er  harbored  fear. 

See,  he  kneels  upon  his  coffin, 
Sure  his  death  can  do  no  good; 

Spare  Him!    Hark!    O  God,  they  have  shot 

him, 
See  his  bosom  streams  with  blood. 

Farewell,  Bird,  farewell  forever! 

Friends  and  home  you'll  see  no  more; 
But  his  mangled  corpse  lies  buried 

On  Lake  Erie's  distant  shore. 

42 
(A)    O  JOHNNY  DEAR,  WHY  DID  YOU  GO? 

In  Conway  town  there  did  dwell 
A  lovely  youth  I  knew  full  well. 

Ri  tu  nic  a  neari 
Ri  tu  nic  a  neari  na. 

One  day  this  youth  did  go 
Down  in  the  meadow  for  to  mow. 

He  mowed  all  around,  at  length  did  feel 
A  pizen  serpent  bite  his  heel. 


98       AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

They  carried  him  to  Betsy  dear, 
Which  made  her  feel  so  very  queer. 

"O  Johnny  dear,  why  did  you  go 
Down  in  the  meadow  for  to  mow?" 

"O  Betsy  dear  I  thought  you  knowed 
'Twas  daddy's  hay  and  must  be  mowed." 

Now  this  young  man  gave  up  the  ghost 
And  away  to  Abraham's  bosom  post. 

(B)     [WOODVILLE  MOUND] 

Near  Woodville  Mound  there  did  dwell 
A  lovely  youth,  I  knew  him  well. 
'Twas  Deacon  Jones'  oldest  son, 
Who  just  riz  up  from  twenty-one. 

Sing  fal  dum  diddle,  fal  dum  a  day 
Fal  dum  diddle  dum  a  day. 

John  he  went  down  in  the  wheatfield 

And  a  mighty  big  snake  bit  him  on  the  heel. 


"0,  Dad,"  said  John,  "run  for  my  gal; 
I'm  going  to  die,  I  know  I  shall." 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS       99 

And  Dad  he  went  and  carried  the  news 
And  here  come  Sal  without  her  shoes. 

"O  John,"  said  Sal,  "why  did  you  go 
Down  in  that  wheatfield  for  to  mow?" 
"O  Sal,"  said  John,  "I  thought  you  knowed 
That  Daddy's  wheat  had  for  to  be  mowed." 

(C)     IN  SPRINGFIELD  MOUNTAIN 

In  Springfield  Mountain  there  did  dwell 

Come-a-row 

In  Springfield  Mountain  there  did  dwell 
A  lovely  couple  that  I  love  so  well. 

Come-a-rousing-a-tousing-tudan-an-a-die. 

He  went  out  in  the  meadow  for  to  mow, 
When  a  garter  snake  gathered  him  by  the  toe. 

He  mowed  just  twice  around  the  field 

When  a  rattle-snake  gathered  him  by  the  heel. 

O,  he  stepped  back  as  he  thought  best 
Right  into  a  yaller-jacket's  nest. 

"O,  Billie  dear,  why  did  you  go 
Out  in  the  meadow  for  to  mow?" 

"0,  Mary  dear,  I  thought  you  knowed 

'Twas  your  pa's  hay  and  it  had  to  be  mowed." 


100     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 
(D)     SPRINGFIELD  MOUNTAIN 

Near  Springfield  Mountain  there  did  dwell 
Turn  er  ei  turn  too  turn  tidinei  ay 

Near  Springfield  Mountain  there  did  dwell. 
Tumerow. 

Near  Springfield  Mountain  there  did  dwell 

Turn  er  ei,  etc. 
A  lovelie  youth  was  known  full  well, 

Tumerow. 

This  lovelie  youth  was  sixty-one 

Turn  er  ei,  etc. 
And  General  Jackson's  favorite  son, 

Tumerow. 

This  lovelie  youth  courting  one  night 

Turn  er  ei,  etc. 
Got  into  a  tremendous  fight 

Tumerow. 

One  Sunday  morning  he  did  go 

Turn  er  ei,  etc. 
Down  in  the  meadows  for  to  mow. 

Tumerow. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS-  AND  SONGS     101 

43 
(A)    THE  JEALOUS  LOVER 

Way  down  in  the  lonely  valley, 

Where  the  violets  fade  and  bloom, 
Tis  there  my  sweet  Lorella 

Lies  mouldering  in  the  tomb. 
She  did  not  stay  heartbroken, 

Nor  by  disease  she  fell, 
But  in  one  moment  parted 

From  those  she  loved  so  well. 

The  banners  waved  above  her, 

Shrill  was  the  bugle  sound, 
But  strangers  came  and  found  her 

Cold,  lifeless  on  the  ground. 

One  night  when  the  moon  shone  brightly, 

And  the  stars  were  shining  too, 
Into  her  quiet  cottage 

Her  jealous  lover  drew, 
Saying,  "Love,  come  let  us  wander 

Amid  the  fields  so  gay; 
While  wandering  we  will  ponder 

Upon  our  wedding  day." 

Deep,  deep  into  the  woodland, 

He  drew  his  love  so  dear; 
Says  she,  "  'Tis  for  you  only 


102     AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

That  I  am  wandering  here. 
The  day  grows  dark  and  dreary, 

And  I'm  afraid  to  stay; 
Of  wandering  I  am  weary, 

And  we'll  retrace  my  way." 

"Retrace  your  steps?     No,  never! 

No  more  this  world  you  roam, 
So  bid  farewell  forever 

To  your  parents,  friends,  and  home." 
"Farewell,  my  loving  parent; 

I  ne'er  shall  see  you  more; 
Long,  long  will  be  my  coming 

To  the  quiet  cottage  door." 

Down  on  her  knees  before  him 

She  begged  him  for  her  life; 
Deep,  deep  into  her  bosom, 

He  plunged  the  fatal  knife, 
"Dear  Willie,  I'll  forgive  you," 

Was  her  last  dying  breath; 
"I  never  have  deceived  you," 

She  closed  her  eyes  in  death. 

(B)    THE  WEEPING  WILLOW 

Way  down  in  yonder  valley, 

Where  the  weeping  willows  wave, 

There  lies  my  poor  Lurella 
In  her  cold  and  silent  grave. 


AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS      103 

She  died  not  broken  hearted, 

From  sickness  or  despair, 
But  in  one  moment  started 

From  the  friends  she  loved  so  fair — 

Down  on  her  knees  before  him 

She  pleaded  for  her  life; 
But  deep  into  her  bosom 

He  plunged  the  fatal  knife. 

Saying,  "Your  parents  will  forgive  me 

For  the  deed  which  I  have  done; 
For  I'm  going  to  leave  this  country 

Never  more  for  to  return." 


44 
YOUNG  CHARLOTTE 

Young  Charlotte  lived  on  the  mountain  side 

In  a  lone  and  dreary  spot; 
No  other  house  for  miles  around 

Except  her  father's  cot. 

And  yet  on  many  a  winter's  night, 
Young  swains  were  gathered  there; 

For  her  father  kept  a  social  board, 
And  she  was  very  fair. 


104     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Her  father  loved  to  see  her  dressed 

Like  any  city  belle; 
She  was  the  only  child  he  had 

And  he  loved  his  daughter  well. 

On  New  Year's  eve  as  the  sun  went  down, 

Far  looked  her  wistful  eye 
Out  from  the  frosty  window  pane 

As  the  merry  sleighs  passed  by. 

In  the  village  fifteen  miles  away, 

Was  to  be  a  ball  that  night, 
And  though  the  air  was  piercing  cold 

Her  heart  beat  warm  and  light. 

How  brightly  beams  her  laughing  eye, 
As  a  well-known  voice  she  hears; 

And  driving  up  to  the  cottage  door 
Young  Charles  and  his  sleigh  appears. 

"O  daughter  dear,"  her  mother  said, 
"This  blanket  round  you  fold; 

It  is  a  dreadful  night  without, 
You'll  catch  your  death  of  cold." 

"0  no,  0  no!"  young  Charlotte  cried, 
And  she  laughed  like  a  gypsy  queen; 

"To  ride  in  blankets  muffled  up, 
I  never  will  be  seen. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     105 

My  silken  cloak  is  quite  enough, 

You  know  it's  lined  throughout; 
Besides  I  have  my  silken  scarf 

To  tie  my  neck  about." 

Her  bonnet  and  her  gloves  put  on, 

She  stepped  into  the  sleigh, 
Rode  swiftly  down  the  mountain  side 

And  o'er  the  hills  away. 

There  was  music  in  the  sound  of  the  bells, 

As  o'er  the  hills  they  go; 
Such  a  creaking  noise  the  runners  make 

As  they  cleave  the  frozen  snow. 

With  muffled  face  and  silent  lips 

Five  miles  at  length  were  passed 
When  Charles  with  few  and  shivering  words 

The  silence  broke  at  last. 

"Such  a  dreadful  night  I  never  knew, 

My  reins  I  scarce  can  hold. 
Fair  Charlotte  shivering  faintly  said 

"I  am  exceeding  cold." 

He  cracked  his  whip,  he  urged  his  steed 

Much  faster  than  before. 
And  thus  five  other  dreary  miles 

In  silence  they  passed  o'er. 


106     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Says  Charles,  "How  fast  the  freezing  ice 

Is  gathering  on  my  brow." 
And  Charlotte  still  more  faintly  said 

"I'm  growing  warmer  now." 

So  on  they  rode  through  frosty  air 

And  the  glittering  cold  starlight, 
Until  at  last  the  village  lamps 

And  the  ballroom  came  in  sight. 

Charles  drove  to  the  door,  he  then  jumped  out, 

And  reached  his  hand  for  her. 
Why  sit  there  like  a  monument  that  has  no  power 
to  stir? 

That  has  no  power  to  stir? 

He  called  her  once,  he  called  her  twice; 

She  answered  not  a  word. 
He  asked  her  for  her  hand  again, 

But  still  she  never  stirred. 

He  took  her  hand  in  his — 0  God ! 

'Twas  cold  and  hard  as  stone. 
He  tore  the  mantle  from  her  brow 

Cold  sweat  upon  there  shone. 

Then  quickly  to  the  dancing  hall 

Her  lifeless  form  he  bore; 
Fair  Charlotte  was  a  frozen  corpse 

And  spake  she  nevermore. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     107 

And  then  he  sat  down  by  her  side 

While  bitter  tears  did  flow, 
And  cried,  "My  own,  my  charming  bride, 

You  never  more  will  know." 

He  twined  his  arms  around  her  neck 

And  kissed  her  marble  brow; 
His  thoughts  flew  back  to  where  she  said 

"I'm  growing  warmer  now." 

;Twas  then  that  cruel  monster,  Death, 

Had  claimed  her  as  his  own; 
Young  Charlotte 's  eyes  were  closed  for  aye, 

Her  voice  was  heard  no  more. 

He  carried  her  out  to  the  sleigh, 

And  with  her  he  rode  home; 
And  when  he  reached  the  cottage  door 

O  how  her  parents  mourned. 

Her  parents  mourned  for  their  daughter  dear, 

And  Charles  wept  o'er  the  gloom. 
Till  at  last  young  Charles  too  died  of  grief 

And  they  both  lie  in  one  tomb. 

Young  ladies,  think  of  this  fair  girl 

And  always  dress  aright, 
And  never  venture  thinly  clad 

On  such  a  wintry  night. 


108     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

45 
(A)    THE  OLD  SHAWNEE 

I  ask  my  love  to  take  a  walk, 
To  take  a  walk  a  little  way; 

And  as  we  walk  we'll  sweetly  talk 
Of  when  shall  be  the  wedding  day. 

Then  only  say  that  you'll  be  mine, 
And  your  home  shall  happy  be, 

Where  the  silent  waters  roll, 
On  the  banks  of  the  old  Shawnee. 

She  said,  "To  that  I'll  ne'er  consent," 
And  he  says,  "Your  life  I'll  take." 

"My  life  you'll  take  instead  of  me, 
For  I  ne'er  shall  give  away." 

He  drew  a  knife  across  her  breast, 

And  in  anger  she  did  cry, 
"  0  Willie  dear,  don't  murder  me, 

For  I  am  not  fit  to  die.'' 

He  took  her  by  her  long  black  hair, 
And  he  threw  her  on  the  ground, 

And  drew  her  to  the  river  side, 
And  left  her  alone  to  die 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     109 


(B)  ON  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  OLD   PEDEE 

I  asked  my  love  to  take  a  walk, 

And  a  walk  she  took  with  me. 
As  we  walked  I  gently  talked 

Of  when  our  wedding  day  would  be. 

Then  she  said  she'd  never  be  mine, 

And  her  home  would  never  be 
Where  the  bright  waters  flow 

On  the  banks  of  the  old  Pedee. 


From  my  breast  I  drew  a  knife, 

And  she  gave  a  shrilling  cry, 
"0  Willie  dear,  don't  murder  me, 

For  I  am  not  prepared  to  die." 

Then  I  took  her  lily  white  hands 

And  swung  her  round  and  again  around, 

Until  she  fell  in  the  waters  cruel, 

And  there  I  watched  my  true  love  drown. 

"O  father  dear,  I've  done  a  deed, 

And  a  deed  it  is  to  me, 
To  have  drowned  my  own  true  love 

On  the  banks  of  the  old  Pedee." 


110     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

46 
THE  MAN  THAT  WOULDN'T  HOE  CORN 

I'll  sing  you  a  song,  it  won't  take  long, 
Concerning  a  man  who  wouldn't  hoe  corn. 
The  reason  why  I  cannot  tell, 
For  this  young  man  was  always  well. 

In  the  month  of  May  he  planted  his  corn, 

And  in  July  it  was  knee  high. 

In  September  there  came  a  frost, 

The  seed  of  his  corn  this  young  man  lost. 

He  went  to  the  fence,  peeped  in  with  a  grin, 
The  chick-a-pie  weeds  were  up  to  his  chin. 
The  weeds  and  grass  had  grown  so  high, 
It  almost  made  this  young  man  cry. 

Then  off  to  a  neighbor's  house  he  goes, 
Courting,  as  we  all  suppose; 
And  in  the  chat  as  chance  came  round, 
She   says,    "  Young   man,    have   you  hoed  your 
ground?" 

"0  no,  my  dear,  I've  laid  it  by, 
I  thought  it  was  no  use  to  try, 
I  thought  it  folly  to  labor  in  vain, 
When  I  saw  I  could  raise  no  grain." 


AMERICAN   BALLADS   AND   SONGS      111 

"Then  why  so  silly  as  to  ask  me  to  wed, 
When  you  can't  earn  your  own  corn  bread? 
Single  I  am  and  single  I'll  remain, 
A  lazy  man  I  won't  maintain." 

"I  won't  be  bound,  I  will  be  free, 

I  won't  marry  a  man  that  don't  love  me; 

Neither  will  I  act  the  childish  part, 

And  marry  a  man  that  will  break  my  heart." 

He  hung  his  head  as  he  went  away, 

Saying,  "Young  woman,  you'll  rue  the  day, 

Rue  the  day  as  sure  as  you're  born, 

To  give  me  the  mitten  because  I  wouldn't  hoe 


47 
(A)  WICKED  POLLY 

Young  people,  who  delight  in  sin, 
I'll  tell  you  what  has  lately  been, 
A  woman  who  was  young  and  fair 
Has  lately  died  in  dark  despair. 

She  would  to  frolic,  dance,  and  play 
In  spite  of  all  her  friends  could  say. 
"I'll  turn  to  God  when  I  get  old, 
And  then  he  will  receive  my  soul." 


112     AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

On  Friday  morning  she  took  sick, 
Her  stubborn  heart  began  to  break 
"Alas,  alas,  my  days  are  spent! 
Good  lord,  too  late  for  to  repent !" 

She  called  her  mother  to  her  bed; 
Her  eyes  were  rolling  in  her  head. 
"When  I  am  dead  remember  well 
Your  wicked  Polly  screams  in  hell! 

"The  tears  are  lost  you  shed  for  me. 
My  soul  is  lost  I  plainly  see. 
The  flowing  wrath  begins  to  roll, 
I  am  a  lost,  a  ruined  soul!'1 

She  gnawed  her  tongue  before  she  died, 
She  rolled,  she  groaned,  she  cried, 
Saying,  "Must  I  burn  forevermore 
When  thousand,  thousand  years  are  o'er?" 

At  length  master  death  prevailed. 
Her  face  turned  blue,  her  language  failed. 
She  closed  her  eyes  and  left  this  world. 
Poor  Polly  thought  that  hell  was  hers. 

This  almost  broke  her  mother's  heart 
To  see  her  child  to  hell  depart. 
"My  Polly,  0  my  Polly's  dead! 
Her  soul  is  gone,  her  spirit's  fled!" 


AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS      113 
(B)  WICKED  POLLY 

O  young  people,  hark  while  I  relate 
The  story  of  poor  Polly's  fate! 
She  was  a  lady  young  and  fair 
And  died  a-groaning  in  despair. 

She  would  go  to  balls  and  dance  and  play 
In  spite  of  all  her  friends  could  say; 
"I'll  turn"  said  she,  "when  I  am  old, 
And  God  will  then  receive  my  soul." 

One  Sabbath  morning  she  fell  sick; 
Her  stubborn  heart  began  to  ache. 
She  cries,  "Alas  my  days  are  spent! 
It  is  too  late  now  to  repent." 

She  called  her  mother  to  her  bed, 
Her  eyes  were  rolling  in  her  head ; 
A  ghastly  look  she  did  assume; 
She  cries,  "Alas,  I  am  undone!" 

"My  loving  father,  you  I  leave; 

For  wicked  Polly  do  not  grieve; 

For  I  must  burn  f  orevermore, 

When  thousand  thousand  years  are  o'er. 

"Your  councils  I  have  slighted  all, 
My  carnal  appetite  to  fill. 
When  I  am  dead,  remember  well 
Your  wicked  Polly  groans  in  hell!" 


114     AMERICAN   BALLADS   AND   SONGS 

She  (w)rung  her  hands  and  groaned  and  cried, 
And  gnawed  her  tongue  before  she  died, 
Her  nails  turned  black,  her  voice  did  fail, 
She  died  and  left  this  lower  vale. 


48 

(A)     JOHNNY  SANDS 

A  man  whose  name  was  Johnny  Sands 

Had  married  Betty  Hague, 
And  though  she  brought  him  gold  and  lands, 

She  proved  a  terrible  plague. 
For  O  she  was  a  scolding  wife, 

Full  of  caprice  and  whim, 
He  said  that  he  was  tired  of  life, 

And  she  was  tired  of  him, 

And  she  was  tired  of  him. 

Says  he,  "Then  I  will  drown  myself, 

The  river  runs  below." 
Says  she,  "Pray  do,  you  silly  elf, 

I  wished  it  long  ago." 
Says  he,  "Upon  the  brink  I'll  stand, 

Do  you  run  down  the  hill 
And  push  me  in  with  all  your  might." 

Says  she,  "My  love,  I  will." 

Says  she,  "My  love,  I  will." 


AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS      115 

"For  fear  that  I  should  courage  lack 

And  try  to  save  myself, 
Pray  tie  my  hands  behind  my  back." 

"I  will,"  replied  his  wife. 
She  tied  them  fast,  as  you  may  think, 

And  when  securely  done, 
"Now  stand,"  says  she,  "upon  the  brink, 

And  I'll  prepare  to  run, 

And  I'll  prepare  to  run." 

And  down  the  hill  his  loving  bride 

Now  ran  with  all  her  force 
To  push  him  in — he  stepped  aside 

And  she  fell  in  of  course. 
Now  splashing,  dashing,  like  a  fish, 

"O  save  me,  Johnny  Sands." 
"I  can't,  my  dear,  though  much  I  wish, 

For  you  have  tied  my  hands, 

For  you  have  tied  my  hands." 

(B)     JOHNNY  SANDS 

A  man  whose  name  was  Johnny  Sands 

Had  married  Betty  Hodge, 
And  though  she  brought  him  gold  and  land, 

She  proved  a  terrible  pledge, 
For  0  she  was  a  scolding  wife, 

And  full  of  whines  and  whims. 
He  said  that  he  was  tired  of  life 

And  she  was  tired  of  him. 


116     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Says  he,  "Then  I  will  drown  myself 

In  the  river  that  runs  below." 
Says  she,  "Pray  do,  you  silly  elf, 

I  wished  it  long  ago." 
"For  fear  that  I  should  courage  lack 

And  try  to  save  my  life, 
Pray  tie  my  hands  behind  my  back." 

"I  will,"  replied  his  wife." 

And  now  he's  standing  on  the  bank, 

She  ran  with  all  her  force 
To  push  him  in — he  stepped  aside 

And  she  fell  in  of  course. 
Now  splashing,  dashing  like  a  fish, 

"0,  save  me,  Johnny  Sands." 
"I  can't  my  dear,  though  much  I  wish, 

For  you  have  tied  my  hands." 

49 
FULLER  AND  WARREN 

Come  ye  sons  of  Columbia,  your  attention  I  do  crave, 

Whilst  a  sorrowful  duty  I  will  tell 

That  happened  us  of  late,  in  our  Indiana  state, 

Of  a  hero  that  none  could  excel* 

Like  Sampson  he  courted  the  choice  of  his  life 

And  fully  intended  to  make  her  his  wife ; 

The  golden  ring  he  gave  her  was  an  emblem  of  true  love, 

And  'twas  carved  with  the  image  of  a  dove. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS      117 

This  young  couple  they  agreed  to  be  married  in  speed; 

This  they  vowed  by  the  powers  above. 

But  this  fickle  minded  maid  did  again  agree  to  wed 

With  young  Warren,  a  liver  in  that  place. 

When  Fuller  came  to  know  he  was  deprived  of  his  love, 

With  a  heart  full  of  woe,  unto  Warren  he  did  go, 

Saying,  "Warren,  you  have  injured  me  to  gratify  your 

cause 

By  reporting  that  I  left  a  prudent  wife, 
Now  acknowledge  that  you've  wronged  me,  or  I  will 

break  the  law, 
Warren,  I  will  rob  you  of  your  life." 

Then  Warren  said  to  Fuller,  "Sir,  your  question  I  deny, 

And  my  heart  to  your  true  love  it  is  bound ; 

And  unto  you  I  say,  this  is  my  wedding  day, 

In  spite  of  all  the  heroes  in  the  town." 

Then  Fuller  in  a  passion  of  love  and  anger  bound 

Which  at  length  caused  many  for  to  sigh, 

For  with  one  fatal  shot  he  killed  Warren  on  the  spot, 

And  smiled  as  he  said,  "I  am  ready  now  to  die." 

Then  Fuller  was  condemned  by  the  honorable  court, 

And  in  Warrensburg  was  sentenced  for  to  die 

The  ignominious  death  to  hang  above  the  earth 

Like  Haman  on  the  gallows  so  high. 

The  day  did  arrive,  young  Fuller  was  to  die, 

Like  an  angel  he  did  stand  for  he  was  a  handsome  man, 

On  his  breast  he  wore  the  red,  white  and  blue. 


118     AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Ten  thousand  spectators  were  smote  upon  that  spot 
Whilst  the  guards  dropped  a  tear  from  their  eyes, 
Saying,  "  Cursed  is  the  she  that  caused  this  misery, 
She  herself  instead  of  him  had  ought  to  die." 
Now  here's  to  all  those  who  have  been  kind  to  loving 

wives, 

You  should  crown  them  with  honors  and  with  light, 
For  marriage  is  a  lottery  and  'tis  few  that  win  the  prize, 
So,  gentlemen,  excuse  me,  goodnight! 

50 
POOR  COINS 

Come  all  of  you  young  people  who  lives  far  and  near, 
I'll  tell  you  of  a  murder  done  on  the  Black  Spur. 

They  surrounded  poor  Coins,  but  Coins  got  away; 
He  went  to  Eli  Boggs'  and  there  he  did  stay. 

Old  Eli's  son  Hughie  his  life  did  betray 

By  telling  him  he'd  go  with  him  to  show  him  the  way. 

They  took  up  the  nine  miles  spar  boys,  they  made  no 

delay, 
Afraid  they  would  miss  him  and  Coins  get  away. 

When  they  saw  him  coming,  they  lay  very  still, 
Saying,  "It's  money  we're  after,  and  Coins  we'll  kill." 


AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS      119 

They  fired  on  poor  Goins,  which  made  his  horse  run ; 
The  shot  failed  to  kill  him;  George  struck  him  with  a 
gun. 

"Sweet  heavens,  sweet  heavens!"  poor  Goins  did  cry, 
"To  think  of  my  poor  companion,  and  now  I  must  die." 

And  when  they  had  killed  him,  with  him  they  would  not 

stay; 
They  then  took  his  money  and  then  rode  away. 

I  wish  you  could  have  been  there  to  hear  her  poor  moan : 
"Here  lies  his  poor  body,  but  where  is  his  poor  soul?" 

51 
POOR  OMIE 

"You  promised  to  meet  me  at  Adam's  spring; 
Some  money  you  would  bring  me,  or  some  other  fine 
thing." 

"No  money,  no  money,  to  flatter  the  case, 
We'll  go  and  get  married,  it  will  be  no  disgrace. 

"Come  jump  up  behind  me  and  away  we  will  ride 
To  yonder  fair  city;  I  will  make  you  my  bride." 

She  jumped  up  behind  him  and  away  they  did  go 

To  the  banks  of  deep  waters  where  they  never  overflow. 


120     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"O  Omie,  O  Omie,  I  will  tell  you  my  mind; 
My  mind  is  to  drown  you  and  leave  you  behind. " 

"O  pity!  O  pity!  Pray  spare  me  my  life, 
And  I  will  deny  you  and  not  be  your  wife." 

"No  pity,  no  pity,  no  pity  have  I; 

In  yonder  deep  water  your  body  shall  lie." 

He  kicked  her  and  stomped  her,  he  threw  her  in  the 

deep; 
He  jumped  on  his  pony  and  rode  at  full  speed. 

The  screams  of  poor  Omie  followed  after  him  so  nigh, 
Saying,  "I  am  a  poor  rebel  not  fitten  to  die." 

She  was  missing  one  evening,  next  morning  was  found 
In  the  bottom  of  Siloty  below  the  mill  dam. 

Up  stepped  old  Miss  Mother,  these  words  she  did  say, 
"James  Luther  has  killed  Omie  and  he  has  run  away. 

"He  has  gone  to  Elk  River,  so  I  understand, 
They  have  got  him  in  prison  for  killing  a  man. 

"They  have  got  him  in  Ireland,  bound  down  to  the 

ground ; 
Arid  he  wrote  a  confession  and  sent  it  around. 

"  'Go  hang  me  or  kill  me,  for  I  am  the  man 
That  drowned  little  Omie  below  the  mill  dam.'  " 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     121 
52 

(A)     SILVER  DAGGER 

Come  all  young  men,  please  lend  attention 
To  these  few  words  I'm  going  to  write; 

They  are  as  true  as  ever  were  written 
Concerning  a  lady  fair  and  bright. 

A  young  man  courted  a  fair  young  maiden; 

He  loved  her  as  he  loved  his  life, 
And  always  vowed  that  he  would  make  her 

His  own  true  and  wedded  wife. 

But  when  his  parents  .came  to  know  this, 
They  tried  to  part  them  day  and  night, 

Saying,  "Son,  0  son,  don't  you  be  so  foolish — 
That  girl's  too  poor  for  to  be  your  wife." 

This  young  man  fell  down  on  his  knees  a-pleading, 

"O  father,  mother,  pity  me. 
Don't  take  from  me  my  dearest  darling, 

For  she  is  all  the  world  to  me." 

But  when  the  young  lady  came  to  know  this, 
She  soon  resolved  what  she  would  do. 

She  wandered  forth  and  from  the  city, 
Never  more  her  charms  to  view. 


122     AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS 

She  wandered  down  by  a  bright  flowing  river, 

And  sat  herself  beneath  a  tree. 
She  sighed  and  said,  "O  will  I  ever, 

Will  I  e'er  more  my  true  love  see?" 

Then  up  she  picked  her  silver  dagger, 

And  pressed  it  through  her  snowy  white  breast. 

She  first  did  reel  and  then  did  stagger, 

Saying,  "My  true  love,  you  come  too  late." 

This  young  man  being  by  the  roadside  heard  her; 

He  thought  he  knew  his  true  love's  voice. 
He  ran,  he  ran,  like  one  distracted, 

Saying,  "My  true  love,  I  fear  you're  lost." 

He  ran  up  to  this  dying  body, 

Rolled  it  over  into  his  arms, 
Saying,  "Neither  gold  nor  friends  can  save  you, 

For  you  are  dying  in  my  arms." 

Her  two  pretty  eyes  like  stars  she  opened, 
Saying,  "My  true  love,  you  come  too  late. 

Prepare  to  meet  me  on  Mount  Zion, 
Where  all  lover's  joys  shall  be  complete." 

Then  up  he  picked  this  bloody  dagger, 
Pressed  it  through  his  aching  heart; 

And  now,  dear  friends,  may  this  be  a  warning 
To  all  who  try  to  part  true  love. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS      123 
(B)     SILVER  DAGGER 

Come  sit  you  down  and  give  attention 
Of  these  few  lines  I  am  going  to  write. 

'Tis  of  a  comely  youth  whose  name  I'll  mention 
Who  lately  courted  a  _beauteous'-bride?^ 

But  when  her  parents  came  to  know  it, 
They  strove,  they  strove,  by  night  and  day 

To  keep  her  from  her  own  dear  William. 
"He  is  poor,"  they  would  ofttimes  say. 

She  being  young  and  tender  hearted, 
Not  knowing  what  she  must  undergo, 

She  wandered  far,  she  left  the  city, 
Some  shady  grove  and  field  to  view. 

She  being  alone  down  by  the  river, 
All  in  the  shade  of  a  blooming  tree, 

She  says,  "And  shall  I,  shall  I  ever, 
The  wife  of  my  Sweet  William  be?" 

She  then  pulled  out  a  silver  dagger, 

And  pierced  it  through  her  snowy  white  breast. 
Saying  these  words,  just  as  she  staggered, 

"Farewell,  true  love,  I'm  going  to  rest." 

He  being  lone  down  in  the  city, 

Hearing  the  moans  this  young  lady  made, 


124     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

He  run  like  one  almost  distracted, 
Saying,  "Alas,  I  am  undone." 

She  opened  her  eyes  like  stars  a-drooping; 

She  says,  "True  love,  you  have  come  too  late. 
Prepare  to  meet  me  on  Mount  Zion, 

Where  all  our  joys  will  be  complete." 

He  then  picked  up  the  silver  dagger, 
And  pierced  it  through  his  tender  heart, 

Saying,  "Let  this  be  an  awful  warning 
To  all  that  do  true  lovers  part." 

53 
THE  AGED   INDIAN 

A  hunter  once  built  him  a  cabin 
In  the  depth  of  a  forest  wild, 

And  there  in  the  lonely  cabin 
He  dwelt  with  his  wife  and  child. 

The  smoke  from  the  nearest  wigwam 

Came  curling  over  the  hill, 
It  was  built  from  the  skins  of  the  panther 

Which  gave  proof  of  the  hunter's  skill. 

The  hunter  one  early  morning 

To  a  distant  town  had  gone 
Leaving  his  wife  and  Ida 

At  home  in  the  woods  alone. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     125 

Ida's  long  brown  lashes 

Hung  over  her  eyes  like  silk, 
As  sitting  down  by  the  window 

She  drank  her  basin  of  milk. 

Suddenly  a  long  dark  shadow 

Came  in  at  the  open  door 
Shutting  out' all  the  sunlight 

Which  fell  across  the  floor. 

As  he  stood  in  the  open  doorway 
The  mother  too  well  knew  his  will 

Was  to  take  her  darling  Ida 
To  his  wigwam  over  the  hill. 

He  spoke  with  many  a  gesture. 

The  mother  was  almost  wild, 
When  she  saw  the  aged  Indian 

Departing  with  her  child. 

He  carried  her  to  his  wigwam 

That  stood  just  over  the  hill 
And  there  with  the  aged  Indian 

Forever  she  did  dwell. 

She  taught  him  to  read  the  Bible, 
And  pray  to  the  God  that  is  true; 

He  taught  her  to  tie  and  weave  baskets 
Of  a  gold  and  azure  hue. 


126     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

54 
CALOMEL 

Ye  doctors  all  of  every  rank 
With  their  long  bills  that  break  a  bank, 
Of  wisdom's  learning,  art,  and  skill 
Seems  all  composed  of  calomel. 

Since  calomel  has  been  their  toast, 
How  many  patients  have  they  lost, 
How  many  hundreds  have  they  killed, 
Or  poisoned  with  their  calomel. 

If  any  fatal  wretch  be  sick 
Go  call  the  doctor,  haste,  be  quick, 
The  doctor  comes  with  drop  and  pill, 
But  don't  forget  his  calomel. 

He  enters,  by  the  bed  he  stands, 
He  takes  the  patient  by  the  hand, 
Looks  wise,  sits  down  his  pulse  to  feel, 
And  then  takes  out  his  calomel. 

Next,  turning  to  the  patient's  wife, 
He  calls  for  paper  and  a  knife. 
"I  think  your  husband  would  do  well 
To  take  a  dose  of  calomel." 

The  man  grows  worse,  grows  bad  indeed 
"Go  call  the  doctor,  ride  with  speed." 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS      127 

The  doctor  comes,  the  wife  to  tell 
To  double  the  dose  of  calomel. 

The  man  begins  in  death  to  groan, 
The  fatal  job  for  him  is  done, 
The  soul  must  go  to  heaven  or  hell, 
A  sacrifice  to  calomel. 

The  doctors  of  the  present  day 
Mind  not  what  an  old  woman  say, 
Nor  do  they  mind  me  when  I  tell 
I  am  no  friend  to  calomel. 

Well,  if  I  must  resign  my  breath, 
Pray  let  me  die  a  natural  death, 
And  if  I  must  bid  all  farewell, 
Don't  hurry  me  with  calomel. 

55 
THE  CREOLE  GIRL 

Over  swamps  and  alligators  I'm  on  my  weary  way 
Over  railroad  ties  and  crossings,  my  weary  feet  did 

stray, 
Until  the  shades  of  evening  some  higher  ground  I 

gained. 
'Twas  there  I  met  a  Creole  girl  on  the  lakes  of  Pon- 

chartrain. 


128     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"Good  eve  to  you,  fair  maiden,  my  money  does  me  no 

good; 
If  it  were  not  for  the  alligators  I  would  stay  out  in  the 

wood." 
"O  welcome,  welcome,  stranger,  although  our  house  is 

plain ; 
We  never  turn  a  stranger  out'on  the  lakes  of  Ponchar- 

train." 

She  took  me  to  her  mother's  house  and  treated  me 

quite  well, 

Her  hair  in  flowing  ringlets  around  her  shoulders  fell. 
I  tried  to  paint  her  beauty,  but  I  found  it  was  in  vain, 
So  beautiful  was  the  Creole  girl  on  the  lakes  of  Pon- 

chartrain. 

I  asked  her  if  she  would  marry  me,  she  said  that  never 

could  be, 

She  said  she  had  a  lover,  and  he  was  far  at  sea. 
She  said  she  had  a  lover  and  true  she  would  remain, 
Till  he  came  back  to  her  again  on  the  lakes  of  Pon- 

chartrain. 

" Adieu,  adieu,  fair  maiden,  I  never  will  see  you  more, 
I'll  never  forget  your  kindness  in  the  cottage  by  the 

shore. 

At  home  in  social  circles,  our  flaming  bowls  we'll  drain, 
We'll  drink  to  the  health  of  the  Creole  girl  on  the  lakes 

of  Ponchartrain." 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS.    129 
56 

THE  BLUE  AND  THE  GRAY 

A  mother's  gift  to  her  country's  cause  is  a  story  yet 

untold, 
She  had  three  sons,  three  only  sons,  each  worth  his 

weight  in  gold. 
She  gave  them  up  for  the  sake  of  war,  while  her  heart 

was  filled  with  pain. 
As  each  went  away  she  was  heard  to  say,  "He  will 

never  return  again." 

One  lies  down  near  Appomattox,  many  miles 

away, 
Another  sleeps  at  Chickamauga,  and  they  both 

wore  suits  of  gray. 
'Mid  the  strains  of  "Down  in  Dixie"  the  third 

was  laid  away, 
In  a  trench  at  Santiago,  the  blue  and  the  gray. 

She's  alone  tonight,  while  the  stars  shine  bright,  with 

a  heart  full  of  despair. 
On  the  last  great  day  I  can  hear  her  say,  "My  three 

boys  will  be  there. 
Perhaps  they'll  watch  at  the  heavenly  gates,  on  guard 

beside    then-    guns. 
Then  the  mother,  true  to  the  gray  and  blue,  may  enter 

with  her  sons." 


130  *  AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

57 

THE  GAMBLER 
r 

My  father  was  a  gambler,  he  learnt  me  how  to  play, 
My  father  was  a  gambler,  he  learnt  me  how  to  play, 
Saying,  "Son,  don't  go  a-begging  when  you  hold  the 

ace  and  tray, 
When  you  hold  the  ace  and  tray." 

Hang  me,  O  hang  me,  and  I'll  be  dead  and  gone, 
Hang  me,  0  hang  me,  and  I'll  be  dead  and  gone, 
I  wouldn't  mind  the  harigin',  it's  bein'  gone  so 

long, 
It's  layin'  in  my  grave  so  long. 

They  took  me  down  to  old  Fort  Smith  as  sick  as  I 

could  be, 
They  took  me  down  to  old  Fort  Smith  as  sick  as  I 

could  be, 
They  handed  me  a  letter  saying,  "Son,  come  home  to 

me,"          / 
Saying,  "Son,  come  home  to  me."  *vfr.-.f 

My  father  and  my  mother  and  my  little  sister  makes - 

three,  i 

My  father  and  my  mother  and  my  lititle  sister  makes 

three, 

They  all  came  up  to  the  gallows  to  see  the  last  of  me. 
To  see  the  last  of  me. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     131 

They  put  the  rope  around  my  neck  and  drew  me  very 

high, 
They  put  the  rope  around  my  neck  and  drew  me  very 

high, 
And  the  words  I  neard  sayin'  was,  "It  won't  be  long 

till  he'll  die, 
It  won't  be  long  till  he'll  die." 


58 
THE  BAGGAGE  COACH  AHEAD 

On  a  dark  and  stormy  night  as  the  train  rolled  on  /•• 

All  passengers  gone  to  bed, 
Except  a  young  man  with  a  babe  on  his  arm  <^ 

Sat  sadly  with  bowed  down  head; 
Just  then  the  babe  commenced  crying    r> 

As  though  its  poor  heart  'would  break. 
One,  angry  man  said,  "Make  that  child  stop  its 
noise, 

For  it's  keeping  us  all  awake." 
"Put  it  out,"  said  another,  "Don't  keep  it  in  here; 

We've  paid  for  our  berth  and  want  rest.'7-  / 
But  never  a  word  said  the  man  with  the  child, 

As  he  fondled  it  close  to  rnVbreast. 
"0  where  is  its  mother?     Go  take  it  to  her,"J 

One  lady  then  softly  said.    K 
"I  wish  that  I  cpuld,"  was  the  man's  sad  reply. 

"But  she's  dead  in  the  coach  ahead. '^ 


132     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

As  the  train  rolled  inward,  a  husband  sat  in 

tears, 
Thinking  of  the  happiness  of  just  a  few 

short  years. 
Baby's  face  brings  pictures  of  a  cherished 

hope  now  dead, 
But  baby's  cries  can't  awaken  her  in  the 

baggage  coach  ahead. 

Every  eye  filled  with  tears  as  the  story  he  told 

Of  a  wife  who  was  faithful  and  true; 
He  told  how  he'd  saved  up  his  earnings  for  years, 

Just  to  build  a  home  for  two; 
How  when  heaven  had  sent  them  their  sweet  little 
babe, 

Their  young  happy  lives  were  blest; 
His  heart  seemed  to  break  when  he  mentioned  her 
name, 

And  in  tears  tried  to  tell  them  the  rest. 
Every  woman  arose  to  assist  with  the  child; 

There  were  mothers  and  wives  on  that  train. 
And  soon  was  the  little  one  sleeping  in  peace, 

With  no  thought  of  sorrow  or  pain. 
Next  morn  at  the  station  he  bade  all  goodbye, 

"God  bless  you,"  he  softly  said, 
Each  one  had  a  story  to  tell  in  their  homes 

Of  the  baggage  coach  ahead. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     133 

59 
CASEY  JONES 

Come  all  you  rounders  for  I  want  you  to  hear 

The  story  told  of  an  engineer; 

Casey  Jones  was  the  rounder's  name, 

A  heavy  right  (eight?)  wheeler  of  a  mighty  fame. 

Caller  called  Jones  about  half  past  four, 
He  kissed  his  wife  at  the  station  door, 
Climbed  into  the  cab  with  the  orders  in  his  hand, 
Says,  "This  is  my  trip  to  the  holy  land." 

Through  South  Memphis  yards  on  the  fly, 
He  heard  the  fore  boy  say,  "  You've  got  a  white  eye." 
All  the  switchmen  knew  by  the  engine  moan 
That  the  man  at  the  throttle  was  Casey  Jones. 

It  had  been  raining  some  five  or  six  weeks, 
The  railroad  track  was  like  the  bed  of  a  creek. 
They  rated  him  down  to  a  thirty  mile  gait, 
Threw  the  south-bound  mail  about  eight  hours  late. 

Foreman  says,  "Casey,  you're  runnin'  too  fast, 
You  run  the  block  board  the  last  station  you  passed." 
Jones  says,  "Yes,  I  believe  we'll  make  it,  though, 
For  she  steams  better  than  I  ever  know." 

Jones  says,  "Foreman,  don't  you  fret; 

Keep  knockin'  at  the  fire  door,  don't  give  up  yet 


134     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

I'm  going  to  run  her  till  she  leaves  the  rail, 
Or  make  it  on  time  with  the  Southern  mail." 

Around  the  curve  and  down  the  dump, 

Two  locomotives  were  bound  to  bump. 

Foreman  hollered,  "Jones,  it's  just  ahead, 

We  might  jump  and  make  it,  but  we'll  all  be  dead." 

'Twas  around  this  curve  he  spied  a  passenger  train, 
Rousing  his  engine  he  caused  the  bell  to  ring; 
Foreman  jumped  off,  but  Jones  stayed  on — 
He's  a  good  engineer,  but  he's  dead  and  gone. 

Poor  Casey  Jones  was  all  right, 

For  he  stuck  to  his  duty  both  day  and  night, 

They  loved  to  hear  his  whistle  and  ring  of  number 

three, 
As  he  came  into  Memphis  on  the  old  I.  C. 

Headaches  and  heartaches  and  all  kinds  of  pain 
Are  not  apart  from  a  railroad  train; 
Tales  that  are  in  earnest,  noble,  and  grand, 
Belong  to  the  life  of  a  railroad  man. 

60 
THE  LADY  ELGIN 

Up  from  the  man's  cottage, 
Forth  from  the  mansion  door, 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     135 

Sweeping  across  the  waters 

And  echoing  to  the  shore, 
Caught  by  the  morning  breezes, 

Borne  on  the  evening  gale, 
Cometh  a  voice  of  mourning, 

A  sad  and  solemn  wail. 

Lost  on  the  Lady  Elgin, 
Sleeping  to  wake  no  more, 
Numbered  in  death  three  hundred 
Who  failed  to  reach  the  shore. 

O  it's  the  cry  of  children 

Weeping  for  parents  gone, 
Children  who  slept  at  evening 

But  orphans  awoke  at  dawn; 
Sisters  for  brother  weeping, 

Husbands  for  missing  wives, 
Such  were  the  ties  dissevered 

With  those  three  hundred  lives. 

61 
THE  JAMESTOWN  FLOOD 

Is  it  news  you  ask  for,  strangers,  as  you  stand  and  gaze 

around 
At  those  cold  and  lifeless  bodies  lying  here  upon  the 

ground? 
Do  you  see  that  lady  yonder,  with  the  little  girl  and 

boy? 


136     AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS 

That's  my  wife,  my  darling  Minnie,  once  my  house 
hold  pride  and  joy. 

Just  an  hour  ago  I  brought  them  from  the  river's  fatal 

tide, 
Laid  them  here  where  now  you  see  them,  all  together 

side  by  side. 
Strangers,  if  you'll  turn  to  listen  to  my  story  long  and 

sad, 
You'll  confess  it  is  no  wonder  that  today  I'm  almost 

mad. 

We  were  seated  at  the  table  chatting  in  a  happy  mood, 
When  we  heard  a  mighty  rushing  like  some  great  and 

awful  flood, 
Nearer!  nearer!  came  the  water,  till  at  last  it  reached 

our  home, 
O  the  horror  of  the  moment  when    we    realized    our 

doom! 

Not  one  moment  did  we  tarry,  but  with  cheeks  and 

brow  aglow 
Climbed  we  to  the  topmost  chamber  for  how  long  I  do 

not  know, 
Then  I  clasped  my  wife  and  children  to  my  chilled  and 

aching  heart 
For  I  saw  that  soon  or  later  we  would  surely  have  to 

part. 

Faster,  faster  rushed  the  waters;  tighter,  tighter  grew 
my  grasp 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     137 

Till  a  wave  of  mud  and  fury  tore  both  children  from 

my  clasp 
Then  my  wife  grew  faint  and  trembly,  cold  and  white 

her  marble  brow, 
One  low  whisper,  scarcely  spoken;  "You  are  all  that's 

left  me  now. 

"Let  your  arms  enfold  me,  husband,  lay  your  head 

upon  my  breast, 
O,  our  children,  may  he  guide  them  to  a  place  of  peace 

and  rest; 
May  he  spare  you  to  me,  darling,  to  protect " — But 

while  she  spoke 
Downward  rushed  a  mighty  current  and  my  deathlike 

grasp  was  broke. 

Down  she  went,  my  last  sweet  darling,  she  my  true  and 

loving  wife, 
She  had  been  my  joy  and  comfort  all  along  the  path  of 

life. 
Just  as  in  a  dream  I  stood  there  till  at  last  a  shout 

I  heard, 
From  some  men  who  stood  above  me,  "Grasp  the  rope, 

we'll  help  you  out." 

And  before  night's  sable   curtain  spread  across  the 

angry  wave 
I  was  drawn  above  and  rescued  from  a  cold  and  watery 

grave, 
But  my  darling  wife  and  children  floated  on  till  one  by  one 


138     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

They  were  found  and  carried  to  me,  but  their  work  on 
earth  was  done. 

Sad  and  mournful  as  I  stood  there,  saw  no  signs  of  life 

or  breath; 
O'er  my  heart  fell  deep  dark  shadows  as  I  saw  them 

cold  in  death. 
And  a  flood  of  thought  came  o'er  me,  overwhelming 

mind  and  heart, 
And  my  soul  cried  out  within  me,  "0  my  loved  ones, 

must  we  part? 

Fare  thee  well,  my  wife  and  children,  in  my  heart 

you'll  ever  be 

Till  I  too  shall  cross  the  river  where  we  will  united  be, 
Then  we'll  have  the  joy  of  loving  as  we  never  loved 

before, 
Where  no  hearts  are  chilled  and  broken,  in  the  sweet 

forevermore." 

62 
THE  MILWAUKEE  FIRE 

'Twas  the  gray  of  early  morning  when  the  dreadful  cry 

of  fire 

Rang  out  upon  the  cold  and  piercing  air; 
Just  that  little  word  alone  is  all  it  would  require 
To  spread  dismay  and  panic  everywhere. 
Milwaukee  was  excited  as  it  never  was  before, 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     139 

On  learning  that  the  fire  bells  all  around 

Were  ringing  to  eternity  a  hundred  souls  or  more 

And  the  Newhall  house  was  burning  to  the  ground. 

0  hear  the  firebells  ringing  at  the  morning's 

early  dawn. 

Hear  the  voices  as  they  give  that  dreadful  cry! 
O  hear  the  wail  of  terror  'mid  the  fierce  and 

burning  flames. 
Heaven  protect  them  for  they're  waiting  there 

to  die. 

The  firemen  worked  like  demons  and  did  all  within 

their  power 

To  save  a  life  or  try  to  soothe  a  pain. 
It  made  the  strongest  heart  sick,  for  in  less  than  half 

an  hour 

All  was  hushed  and  further  efforts  were  in  vain. 
When  the  dread  alarm  was  sounded  through  the  oft, 

condemned  hotel 

They  rushed  in  mad  confusion  every  way. 
The  smoke  was  suffocating  and  blinding  them  as  well; 
The  fire  king  could  not  be  held  at  bay. 

At  every  window  men  and  women  wildly  would  beseech 

For  help  in  tone  of  anguish  and  despair; 

What  must  have  been  their  feelings  where  the  ladders 

could  not  reach 

As  they  felt  death's  grasp  round  them  everywhere. 
Up  in  the  highest  window  stood  a  servant  girl  alone; 


140     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

The  crowd  beneath  all  gazed  with  bated  breath; 
They  turned  away  their  faces;  there  was  many  a  stifled 

groan 
When  she  jumped  to  meet  perhaps  as  hard  a  death. 

A  boy  stood  in  a  window  and  his  mother  was  below; 

She  saw  him,  and  the  danger  drawing  near; 

With  hands  upraised  to  pray  for  him  she  knelt  down 

in  the  snow, 

And  the  stoutest  men  could  not  restrain  a  tear. 
She  madly  rushed  toward  the  fire  and  wildly  tore  her 

hair 

"Take  me,  0  God,  but  spare  my  pride,  my  joy." 
She  saw  the  flames  surround  him  and  then  in  dark 

despair 
Said,  "God  have  mercy  on  my  only  son." 


63 
THE  FATAL  WEDDING 

The  wedding  bells  were  ringing 

On  a  moonlight  winter's  night; 
The  church  was  decorated, 

All  within  was  gay  and  bright. 
A  mother  with  her  baby 

Came  and  saw  the  light  aglow. 
She  thought  of  how  those  same  bells  chimed 

For  her  three  years  ago. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     141 

While  the  wedding  bells  were  ringing 

And  the  bride  and  groom  were  there, 
Marching  up  the  aisle  together 

While  the  organ  pealed  an  air, 
Speaking  words  of  fond  affection, 

Vowing  never  more  to  part, 
Just  another  fatal  wedding, 

Just  another  broken  heart. 

"I'd  like  to  be  admitted,  sir, 

She  told  the  sexton  old, 
Just  for  the  sake  of  baby, 

To  protect  him  from  the  cold." 
He  told  her  that  the  wedding 

Was  for  the  rich  and  grand, 
And  with  the  eager  watching  crowd 

Outside  she'd  have  to  stand. 

She  begged  the  sexton  once  again 

To  let  her  step  inside, 
"For  baby's  sake  you  may  come  in," 

The  gray-haired  man  replied. 
"If  anyone  knows  reason  why 

This  couple  should  not  wed 
Speak  now  or  hold  your  peace  forever," 

Soon  the  preacher  said. 

"I  must  object,"  the  woman  cried 

With  voice  so  meek  and  mild, 
"The  bridegroom  is  my  husband, 

And  this  our  little  child." 


142     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"What  proof  have  you?"  the  preacher  said, 

"My  infant,"  she  replied, 
Then  raised  the  babe  and  knelt  to  pray; 

The  little  one  had  died. 

The  parents  of  the  bride  then  took 

The  outcast  by  the  hand, 
"We'll  care  for  you  through  life,"  they  said, 

"You've  saved  our  child  from  harm." 
The  outcast  wife,  the  bride,  and  parents 

Then  quickly  drove  away. 
The  husband  died  by  his  own  hand 

Before  the  break  of  day. 

No  wedding  feast  that  night  was  spread, 

Two  graves  were  made  next  day, 
One  for  the  babe,  and  in  the  one 

The  father  soon  was  laid. 
This  story  has  been  often  told, 

By  fireside  warm  and  bright, 
Of  bride  and  groom  and  outcast 

On  that  fatal  wedding  night. 


SONGS  OF  CRIMINALS 
AND  OUTLAWS 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     145 

64 
(A)     JESSE  JAMES 

How  the  people  held  their  breath 
When  they  heard  of  Jesse's  death, 

And  wondered  how  he  came  to  die; 
For  the  big  reward  little  Robert  Ford 

Shot  Jesse  James  on  the  sly. 

Jesse  leaves  a  widow  to  mourn  all  her  life, 

The  children  he  left  will  pray 
For  the  thief  and  the  coward 

Who  shot  Mr.  Howard 
And  laid  Jesse  James  in  his  grave. 

Jesse  was  a  man, 
A  friend  to  the  poor, 

Never  did  he  suffer  a  man's  pain; 
And  with  his  brother  Frank 
He  robbed  the  Chicago  bank, 

And  stopped  the  Glendale  train. 

Jesse  goes  to  rest 

With  his  hand  on  his  breast, 

And  the  devil  will  be  upon  his  knees; 
He  was  born  one  day  in  the  county  of  Clay, 

And  came  from  a  great  race. 

Men  when  you  go  out  to  the  West, 
Don't  be  afraid  to  die; 


146     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

With  the  law  in  their  hand, 
But  they  didn't  have  the  sand 
For  to  take  Jesse  James  alive. 

(B)    JESSE  JAMES 

Jesse  James  was  a  man,  and  he  had  a  robber  band; 

And  he  flagged  down  the  eastern  bound  train. 

Robert  Ford  watched  his  eye, 

And  he  shot  him  on  the  sly, 

And  they  laid  Jesse  James  in  his  grave. 

Poor  old  Jesse,  poor  old  Jesse  James, 
And  they  laid  Jesse  James  in  his  grave. 
Robert  Ford's  pistol  ball, 
Brought  him  tumbling  from  the  wall, 
And  they  laid  Jesse  James  in  his  grave. 

Jesse  James'  little  wife 

Was  a  moaner  all  her  life, 

When  they  laid  Jesse  James  in  his  grave. 

She  earned  her  daily  bread 

By  her  needle  and  her  thread, 

When  they  laid  Jesse  James  in  his  grave. 

65 

(A)    CHARLES  GUITEAU 

or 
JAMES  A.  GARFIELD 

Come  all  you  tender  Christians, 
Wherever  you  may  be, 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     147 

And  likewise  pay  attention 

To  these  few  lines  from  me. 

For  the  murder  of  James  A.  Garfield 

I  am  condemned  to  die, 

On  the  thirtieth  day  of  June 

Upon  the  scaffold  high. 

My  name  is  Charles  Guiteau, 
My  name  111  ne'er  deny. 
I  leave  my  aged  parents 
In  sorrow  for  to  die. 
But  little  did  they  think, 
While  in  my  youthful  bloom, 
Fd  be  taken  to  the  scaffold 
To  meet  my  earthly  doom. 

'Twas  down  at  the  station 
I  tried  to  make  my  escape, 
But  Providence  being  against  me 
There  proved  to  be  no  show. 
They  took  me  off  to  prison 
While  in  my  youthful  bloom 
To  be  taken  to  the  scaffold 
To  meet  my  earthly  doom. 

I  tried  to  be  insane 
But  I  found  it  ne'er  would  do, 
The  people  were  all  against  me, 
To  escape  there  was  no  clue. 
Judge  Cox,  he  read  my  sentence, 


148     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

His  clerk  he  wrote  it  down, 
I'd  be  taken  to  the  scaffold 
To  meet  my  earthly  doom. 

My  sister  came  to  see  me, 

To  bid  a  last  farewell. 

She  threw  her  arm  around  me 

And  wept  most  bitterly. 

She  says,  "My  darling  brother, 

This  day  you  must  cruelly  die 

For  the  murder  of  James  A.  Garfield 

Upon  the  scaffold  high." 


(B)     THE  DEATH  OF  BENDALL 

Come  all  ye  tender  Christians  and  hearken  unto  me, 
And  kindly  pay  attention  to  these  few  words  from  me. 
For  the  murder  of  young  Bendall  I  am  condemned  to 

die; 
On  the  fourteenth  of  November  I  mount  the  gallows 

high. 

My  name  is  J.  S.  Birchell,  my  name  I'll  never 

deny. 

I  leave  my  aged  parents  in  sorrow  for  to  die; 
It's  little  did  I  think  when  in  my  childhood  home, 
I'd  be  taken  to  the  scaffold  to  meet  my  fatal 

doom. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND   SONC,S      149 

Now  Bendall  he  was  young  and  in  the  prime  of  life, 
To  come  out  here  to  Canada  to  lead  an  honest  ^ife ; 
But  Birchell  he  betrayed  him,  he  led  him  to  the  s'Vamp, 
And  there  he  drew  his  pistol  and  Bendall  he  did  drop. 

My  wife  she  came  to  see  me,  to  bid  her  last  farewell. 
She  threw  her  arms  around  me  and  wept  most  bitterly; 
Said  she,  "My  darling  husband,  tomorrow  you  must  die 
For  the  murder  of  young  Bendall  you  mount  the  scaf 
fold  high." 

He  tried  to  play  off  innocent,  but  he  found  it  was  no  go. 
The  people  turned  against  him  and  proved  to  give  no 

show. 
And  when  those  words  were  spoken,  those  words  "Thy 

will  be  done," 
The  trap  door,  it  was  opened,  and  Birchell  he  was  hung. 

66 
SAM  BASS 

Sam  Bass  was  born  in  Indiana,  it  was  his  native  home, 
And  at  the  age  of  seventeen  young  Sam  began  to  roam. 
Sam  first  came  out  to  Texas  a  cowboy  for  to  be, — 
A  kinder-hearted  fellow  you  seldom  ever  see. 

Sam  used  to  deal  in  race  stock,  one  called  the  Denton 

mare, 
He  matched  her  in  scrub  races,  and  took  her  to  the 

fair. 


150    A:\IERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Sam  Ufeed  to  coin  the  money  and  spent  it  just  as 

flic, 
He  always  drank  good  whiskey  wherever  he  might  be. 

Sam  left  the  Collins  ranch  in  the  merry  month  of  May 
With  a  herd  of  Texas  cattle  the  Black  Hills  for  to  see, 
Sold  out  in  Custer  City  and  then  got  on  a  spree, — 
A  harder  set  of  cowboys  you  seldom  ever  see. 

On  their  way  back  to  Texas  they  robbed  the  U.  P. 

train, 

And  then  split  up  in  couples  and  started  out  again. 
Joe  Collins  and  his  partner  were  overtaken  soon, 
With  all  their  hard-earned  money  they  had  to  meet 

their  doom. 

Sam  made  it  back  to  Texas  all  right  side  up  with  care; 
Rode  into  the  town  of  Denton  with  all  his  friends  to 

share. 

Sam's  life  was  short  in  Texas ;  three  robberies  did  he  do, 
He  robbed  all  the  passenger,  mail,  and  express  cars  too. 

Sam  had  four  companions — four  bold  and  daring  lads — 
They  were  Richardson,  Jackson,  Joe  Collins,  and  Old 

Dad; 
Four  more  bold  and  daring  cowboys  the  rangers  never 

knew, 
They  whipped  the  Texas  rangers  and  ran  the  boys  in 

blue. 


AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS      151 

Sam   had    another    companion,   called    Arkansas    for 

short, 
Was  shot  by  a  Texas  ranger  by  the  name  of  Thomas 

Floyd; 

O,  Tom  is  a  big  six-footer  and  thinks  he's  mighty  fly, 
But  I  can  tell  you  his  racket, — he's  a  deadbeat  on  the 

sly. 

Jim  Murphy  was  arrested,  and  then  released  on  bail; 
He  jumped  his  bond  at  Tyler  and  then  took  the  train 

for  Terrell; 
But  Mayor  Jones  had  posted  Jim  and  that  was  all  a 

stall, 
'Twas  only  a  plan  to  capture  Sam  before  the  coming 

of  fall. 

Sam  met  his  fate  at  Round  Rock,  July  the  twenty- 
first, 

They  pierced  poor  Sam  with  rifle  balls  and  emptied  out 
his  purse. 

Poor  Sam  he  is  a  corpse  and  six  foot  under  clay, 

And  Jackson's  in  the  bushes  trying  to  get  away. 

Jim  had  borrowed  Sam's  good  gold  and  didn't  want  to 

pay, 

The  only  shot  he  saw  was  to  give  poor  Sam  away. 
He  sold  out  Sam  and  Barnes  and  left  their  friends  to 

mourn, — 
O  what  a  scorching  Jim  will  get  when  Gabriel  blows 

his  horn. 


152     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

And  so  he  sold  out  Sam  and  Barnes  and  left  their 

friends  to  mourn, 
O  what  a  scorching  Jim  will  get  when  Gabriel  blows 

his  horn. 

Perhaps  he's  got  to  heaven,  there's  none  of  us  can  say, 
But  if  I'm  right  in  my  surmise  he's  gone  the  other  way. 

67 
JACK  WILLIAMS 

I  am  a  boatman  by  trade, 

Jack  Williams  is  my  name, 
And  by  a  false  deluding  girl 

Was  brought  to  grief  and  shame. 

On  Chatton  street  I  did  reside, 
Where  the  people  did  me  know; 

I  fell  in  love  with  a  pretty  pretty  girl, 
She  proved  my  overthrow. 

I  took  to  robbing  night  and  day, 
All  to  maintain  her  fine  and  gay. 

What  I  got  I  valued  not 

But  I  gave  to  her  straightway. 

At  last  to  Newgate  I  was  brought, 
Bound  down  in  irons  strong. 

With  rattling  chains  around  my  legs, 
She  longed  to  see  me  hang. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     153 

I  wrote  a  letter  to  my  love 
Some  comfort  for  to  find. 
Instead  of  proving  a  friend  to  me 
She  proved  to  me  unkind. 

And  in  a  scornful  manner  said 

"I  hate  your  company, 
And  as  you  have  made  your  bed,  young  man, 

Down  on  it  you  may  lie." 

There  is  a  heaven  above  us  all 

And  it  proved  kind  to  me; 
I  broke  my  chains  and  scaled  the  walls, 

And  gained  sweet  liberty. 

Now  I  am  at  liberty, 

A  solemn  vow  I'll  take; 
I'll  shun  all  evil  company 

For  that  false  woman's  sake. 


68 
YOUNG  McFEE 

Come  all  my  friends  and  listen  to  me, 
While  I  relate  a  sad  and  mournful  history. 
On  this  day  I'll  tell  to  thee 
The  story  of  young  McFee. 


154     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

I  scarce  had  reached  to  my  fifth  year 

Before  my  father  and  mother  dear 

Both  in  their  silent  graves  were  laid 

By  He  whom  first  their  beings  gave. 

I  took  unto  myself  a  wife. 

She'd  be  living  yet,  there  is  no  doubt, 

If  I  had  not  met  Miss  Hattie  Stout. 

My  wife  was  lying  on  the  bed 

When  I  approached  her  and  said, 

"Dear  wife,  here  is  some  medicine  I  have  brought, 

That  I  for  you  this  day  have  bought. 

Pray  take  it,  do,  it  will  cure  you 

Of  those  vile  fits.     Pray  take  it,  do." 

She  gave  to  me  one  loving  look 

And  in  her  mouth  the  poison  took. 

Down  on  her  bed  low  with  her  babe, 

Down  to  her  last  long  sleep  she  laid. 

I  fearing  that  she  was  not  dead 

My  hands  upon  her  throat  I  laid, 

And  there  such  deep  impression  made 

That  her  soul  from  sorrow  quicker  fled, 

And  my  heart  was  filled  with  woe. 

I  cried,  "O  whither  shall  I  go? 

How  can  I  leave  this  mournful  place, 

This  world  again  how  can  I  pace? 

Had  I  ten  thousand  pounds,  I'd  give 
To  bring  her  back  again  to  live, 
To  bring  her  back  again  to  life, 
My  dear,  my  darling  murdered  wife." 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND   SONGS      155 

69 
MY  BONNY  BLACK  BESS 

Let  the  lover  his  mistress's  beauty  rehearse, 
And  laud  her  attractions  in  languishing  verse; 
Be  it  mine  in  rude  strain  but  with  truth  to  express 
The  love  that  I  bear  to  my  Bonny  Black  Bess. 

From  the  West  was  her  dam,  from  the  East  was  her 

sire; 

From  the  one  came  her  swiftness,  the  other  her  fire; 
No  peer  of  the  realm  better  blood  can  possess 
Than  flows  in  the  blood  of  my  Bonny  Black  Bess. 

Look!  Look!  how  that  eyeball  glows  bright  as  a  brand, 
That  neck  proudly  arching,  those  nostrils  expand; 
Mark  that  wide  flowing  mane,  of  which  each  silky  tress 
Might  adorn  prouder  beauties,  though  none  like  Black 
Bess. 

Mark  that  skin  sleek  as  velvet  and  dusky  as  night, 

With  its  jet  undisfigured  by  one  lock  of  white, 

That  throat  branched  with  veins,  prompt  to  charge  or 

caress, 
Now  is  she  not  beautiful,  bonny  Black  Bess? 

Over  highway  and  byway,  in  rough  or  smooth  weather, 
Some  thousands  of  miles  have  we  journeyed  together; 


156     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Our  couch  the  same  straw,  our  meals  the  same  mess, 
No  couple  more  constant  than  I  and  Black  Bess. 

By  moonlight,  in  darkness,  by  night  and  by  day 
Her  headlong  career  there  is  nothing  can  stay; 
She  cares  not  for  distance,  she  knows  not  distress. 
Can  you  show  me  a  courser  to  match  with  Black  Bess? 

Once  it  happened  in  Cheshire,  near  Durham,  I  popped 
On  a  horseman  alone  whom  I  suddenly  stopped; 
That  I  lightened  his  pockets  you'll  readily  guess — 
Quick  work  makes  Dick  Turpin  when     mounted  on 
Bess. 

Now  it  seems  the  man  knew  me:  "Dick  Turpin,"  said 

he, 

"You  shall  swing  for  this  job,  as  you  live,  d'ye  see?" 
I  laughed  at  his  threats  and  his  vows  of  redress — 
I  was  sure  of  an  alibi  then  with  Black  Bess. 

Brake,  brook,  meadow,  and  ploughed  field  Bess  fleetly 

bestrode; 

As  the  crow  wings  his  flight  we  selected  our  road. 
We  arrived  at  Hough  Green  in  five  minutes  or  less, 
My  neck  it  was  saved  by  the  speed  of  Black  Bess. 

Stepping  carelessly  forward  I  lounge  on  the  green, 
Taking  excellent  care  that  by  all  I  am  seen; 
Some  remarks  on  time's  flight  to  the  squires  I  address; 
But  I  say  not  a  word  of  the  flight  of  Black  Bess. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     157 

I  mention  the  hour — it  is  just  about  four, 
Play  a  rubber  at  bowls,  think  the  danger  is  o'er, 
When  athwart  my  next  game  like  a  checkmate  in  chess 
Comes  the  horseman  in  search  of  the  rider  of  Bess. 

What  matter  details?     Off  with  triumph  I  came. 
He  swears  to  the  hour  and  the  squires  swear  the  same. 
I  had  robbed  him  at  four,  while  at  four,  they  profess 
I  was  quietly  bowling — all  thanks  to  Black  Bess. 

Then  one  halloo,  boys,  one  loud  cheering  halloo, 
For  the  swiftest  of  coursers,  the  gallant,  the  true, 
For  the  sportsman  inborn  shall  the  memory  bless 
Of  the  horse  of  the  highwaymen,  Bonny  Black  Bess. 

70 
TURPIN   AND   THE   LAWYER 

As  Turpin  was  riding  across  a  moor, 
There  he  saw  a  lawyer  riding  on  before. 
Turpin  riding  up  to  him,  said,  "  Are  you  not  afraid 
To  meet  Dick  Turpin,  that  mischievous  blade?" 

Singing  Eh  ro,  Turpin  I  ro. 

Says  Turpin  to  the  lawyer  for  to  be  cute, 

"I  hid  my  money  into  my  boot." 

Says  the  lawyer  to  Turpin,  "He  can't  find  mine, 

For  I  hid  it  in  the  cape  of  my  coat  behind." 


158     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

They  rode  along  together  to  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
When  Turpin  bid  the  lawyer  to  stand  still, 
Saying,  "The  cape  of  your  coat  it  must  come  off, 
For  my  horse  is  in  want  of  a  new  saddle-cloth." 

Turpin  robbed  the  lawyer  of  all  his  store, 
He  told  him  to  go  home  and  he  would  get  more, 
"And  the  very  first  town  that  you  come  in, 
You   can   tell   them   you   was   robbed   by   Dick 
Turpin." 

71 
JACK  DONAHOO 

Come  all  you  bold  undaunted  men,  you  outlaws  of 

the  day, 
It's  time  to  beware  of  the  ball  and  chain  and  also 

slavery. 

Attention  pay  to  what  I  say,  and  verily  if  you  do, 
I  will  relate  you  the  actual  fate  of  bold  Jack  Donahoo. 

He  had  scarcely  landed  as  I  tell  you,  upon  Australia's 

shore, 
Than  he  became  a  real  highwayman,  as  he  had  been 

before. 
There  was  Underwood  and  Mackerman,  and  Wade 

and  Westley  too, 
These  were  the  four  associates  of  bold  Jack  Donahoo. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS      159 

Jack  Donahoo  who  was  so  brave,  rode  out  that  after 
noon, 

Knowing  not  that  the  pain  of  death  would  overtake 
him  soon. 

So  quickly  then  the  horse  police  from  Sidney  came 
to  view; 

" Begone  from  here,  you  cowardly  dogs,"  says  bold 
Jack  Donahoo. 

The  captain  and  the  sergeant  stopped  then  to  decide. 

"Do  you  intend  to  fight  us  or  unto  us  resign?" 

"To  surrender  to  such  cowardly  dogs  is  more  than 

I  will  do, 
This  day  I'll  fight  if  I  lose  my  life,"  says  bold  Jack 

Donahoo. 

The  captain  and  the  sergeant  the  men  they  did  divide; 
They  fired  from  behind  him  and  also  from  each  side; 
It's  six  police  he  did  shoot  down  before  the  fatal  ball 
Did  pierce  the  heart  of  Donahoo  and  cause  bold  Jack 
to  fall. 

And  when  he  fell  he  closed  his  eyes,  he  bid  the  world 

adieu; 
Come,  all  you  boys,  and  sing  the  song  of  bold  Jack 

Donahoo. 


160     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

72 
CAPTAIN  KIDD 

"My  parents  taught  me  well,  as  I  sailed,  as  I  sailed, 
To  shun  the  gates  of  hell  as  I  sailed. 
I  cursed  my  father  dear,  and  her  that  did  me  bear, 
And  so  wickedly  did  swear,  as  I  sailed,  as  I  sailed, 
And  so  wickedly  did  swear,  as  I  sailed. 

"I'd  a  Bible  in  my  hand,  when  I  sailed,  when  I  sailed, 

But  I  sunk  it  in  the  sand  as  I  sailed. 

I  made  a  solemn  vow,  to  God  I  would  not  bow, 

Nor  myself  one  prayer  allow,  when  I  sailed,  when  I 

sailed, 
Nor  myself  one  prayer  allow,  when  I  sailed. 

"I  murdered  William  Moore  as  I  sailed,  as  I  sailed, 

And  left  him  in  his  gore  as  I  sailed, 

And  being  cruel  still,  my  gunner  did  I  kill, 

And  much   precious  blood   did  spill,   as   I   sailed,   as 

I  sailed, 
And  much  precious  blood  did  spill  as  I  sailed. 

"My  name  was  Robert  Kidd  as  I  sailed,  as  I  sailed, 
My  name  was  Robert  Kidd,  as  I  sailed. 
My  name  was  Robert  Kidd,  God's  laws  I  did  forbid, 
And  so  wickedly  I  did,  as  I  sailed,  as  I  sailed, 
And  so  wickedly  I  did  as  I  sailed!" 


WESTERN  BALLADS 

AND  SONGS 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS      163 

73 
THE  TEXAS  RANGERS 

Come  all  you  Texas  Rangers  wherever  you  may  be, 
I'll  tell  you  of  some  trouble  which  happened  unto  me. 

My  name  'tis  nothing  extra,  the  truth  to  you  I'll  tell, 
Come  all  you  jolly  Rangers,  I'm  sure  I  wish  you  well. 

It  was  the  age  of  sixteen  I  joined  the  royal  band, 
We  marched  from  San  Antonio,  unto  the  Rio  Grande. 

Our   captain   he   informed   us,    perhaps   he   thought 

'twas  right, 
Before  we  reached  the  station,  he  was  sure  we  would 

have  to  fight. 

It  was  one  morning  early,  our  captain  gave  command, 
"To  arms,  to  arms,"  he  shouted,  "and  by  your  horses 
stand." 

We  heard  those  Indians  coming,  we  heard  them  give 

their  yell, 
My  feelings  at  that  moment  no  human  tongue  can  tell. 

We  saw  their  smoke  arising,  it  almost  reached  the 

sky, 
My  feelings  at  that  moment,  now  is  my  time  to  die. 


164     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

We  saw  those  Indian's  coming,  their  arrows  around  us 

hailed, 
My  heart  it  sank  within  me,  my  courage  almost  failed. 

We  fought  them  full  nine  hours  until  the  strife  was 

o'er, 
The  like  of  dead  and  wounded,  I  never  saw  before. 


Five  hundred  as  noble  Rangers  as  ever  served  the  west, 
We'll  bury  those  noble  Rangers,  sweet  peace  shall  be 
their  rest. 

I  thought  of  my  poor  mother,  those  words  she  said 

to  me, 
"To  you  they  are  all  strangers,  you  had  better  stay 

with  me." 

I  thought  she  was  old  and  childish,  perhaps  she  did 

not  know, 
My  mind  was  bent  on  roving  and  I  was  bound  to  go. 

Perhaps  you  have  a  mother,  likewise  a  sister  too, 
Perhaps  you  have  a  sweetheart  to  weep  and  mourn 
for  you. 

If  this  be  your  condition  I  advise  you  to  never  roam, 
I  advise  you  by  experience  you  had  better  stay  at 
home. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     165 

74 
THE  LITTLE  OLD  SOD  SHANTY  ON  THE  CLAIM 

I  am  looking  rather  seedy  now, 

While  holding  down  my  claim, 

And  my  victuals  are  not  always  served  the  best; 

And  the  mice  play  slyly  round  me, 

As  I  nestle  down  to  sleep 

In  my  little  old  sod  shanty  in  the  West. 

The  hinges  are  of  leather,  and  the  windows  have 

no  glass 

While  the  board  roof  lets  the  howling  blizzard  in, 
And  I  hear  the  hungry  coyote 
As  he  sneaks  up  through  the  grass 
Around  the  little  old  sod  shanty  on  my  claim. 

Yet  I  rather  like  the  novelty  of  living  in  this  way, 

Though  my  bill  of  fare  is  always  rather  tame, 

But  I'm  as  happy  as  a  clam 

On  this  land  of  Uncle  Sam's, 

In  my  little  old  sod  shanty  on  my  claim. 

But  when  I  left  my  Eastern  home,  a  bachelor  so  gay, 

To  try  to  win  my  way  to  wealth  and  fame, 

I  little  thought  that  I'd  come  down  to  burning  twisted 

hay 
In  my  little  old  sod  shanty  on  my  claim. 


166     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

75 

COWBOY  SONG 

One  night  as  I  lay  on  the  prairie 
And  looked  at  the  stars  in  the  sky, 

I  wondered  if  ever  a  cowboy 

Would  drift  to  that  sweet  Bye  and  Bye. 

The  trail  to  that  bright  mystic  region 
Is  narrow  and  dim,  so  they  say; 

But  the  one  that  leads  down  to  perdition 
Is  staked  and  is  blazed  all  the  way. 

They  say  that  there'll  be  a  great  roundup, 
Where  cowboys  like  "dogies"  will  stand, 

Cast  out  by  those  riders  from  heaven 
Who  are  posted  and  know  every  brand. 

I  wonder,  was  there  ever  a  cowboy 
Prepared  for  the  great  Judgment  Day, 

Who  could  say  to  the  boss  of  the  riders, 
"I'm  ready  to  be  driven  away." 

They  say  he  will  never  forsake  you, 
That  he  notes  every  action  and  look, 

But  for  safety  you'd  better  get  branded 
And  have  your  name  in  his  great  book. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     167 

For  they  tell  of  another  great  owner 
Who  is  nigh  overstocked,  so  they  say, 

But  who  always  makes  room  for  the  sinner 
Who  strays  from  the  bright  narrow  way. 

76 
THE  OLD  CHISHOLM  TRAIL 

Come  along,  boys,  and  listen  to  my  tale, 

I'll  tell  you  of  my  troubles  on  the  old  Chisholm  trail. 

Coma  ti  yi  youpy,  youpy  ya,  youpy  ya, 
Coma  ti  yi  youpy,  youpy  ya. 

I  started  up  the  trail  October  twenty-third. 
I  started  up  the  trail  with  the  2-U  herd. 

Oh,  a  ten  dollar  hoss  and  a  forty  dollar  saddle, — 
And  I'm  goin'  to  punchin'  Texas  cattle. 

I  woke  up  one  morning  on  the  old  Chisholm  trail, 
Rope  in  my  hand  and  a  cow  by  the  tail. 

I'm  up  in  the  mornin'  afore  daylight 
And  afore  I  sleep  the  moon  shines  bright. 

Old  Ben  Bolt  was  a  blamed  good  boss, 

But  he'd  go  to  see  the  girls  on  a  sore-backed  hoss. 


168     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Old  Ben  Bolt  was  a  fine  old  man 

And  you'd  know  there  was  whiskey  wherever  he'd  land. 

My  hoss  throwed  me  off  at  the  creek  called  Mud, 
My  hoss  throwed  me  off  round  the  2-U  herd. 

Last  time  I  saw  him  he  was  going  cross  the  level 
A-kicking  up  his  heels  and  a-running  Like  the  devil. 

It's  cloudy  in  the  West,  a-looking  like  rain, 
And  my  damned  old  slicker's  in  the  wagon  again. 

Crippled  my  hoss,  I  don't  know  how, 
Ropin'  at  the  horns  of  a  2-U  cow. 

We  hit  Caldwell  and  we  hit  her  on  the  fly, 
We  bedded  down  the  cattle  on  the  hill  close  by. 

No  chaps,  no  slicker,  and  it's  pouring  down  rain, 
And  I  swear  by  god,  I'll  never  night-herd  again. 

Feet  in  the  stirrups  and  seat  in  the  saddle, 
I  hung  and  rattled  with  them  long-horn  cattle. 

Last  night  I  was  on  guard  and  the  leader  broke  the 

ranks, 
I  hit  my  horse  down  the  shoulders  and  I  spurred  him 

in  the  flanks. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     169 

The  wind  commenced  to  blow,  and  the  rain  began  to 

fall, 
Hit  looked,  by  grab,  like  we  was  goin'  to  lose  'em  all. 

I  jumped  in  the  saddle  and  grabbed  holt  the  horn, 
Best  blamed  cow-puncher  ever  was  born. 

I  popped  my  foot  in  the  stirrup  and  gave  a  little  yell, 
The  tail  cattle  broke  and  the  leaders  went  to  hell. 

I  don't  give  a  damn  if  they  never  do  stop; 
I'll  ride  as  long  as  an  eight-day  clock. 

Foot  in  the  stirrup  and  hand  on  the  horn, 
Best  damned  cowboy  ever  was  born. 

I  herded  and  I  hollered  and  I  done  very  well, 
Till  the  boss  said,  "Boys,  just  let  'em  go  to  hell." 

Stray  in  the  herd  and  the  boss  said  kill  it, 
So  I  shot  him  in  the  rump  with  the  handle  of  the 
skillet. 

We  rounded  'em  up  and  put  'em  on  the  cars, 
And  that  was  the  last  of  the  old  Two  Bars. 

Oh  it's  bacon  and  beans  'most  every  day, — 
I'd  as  soon  be  a-eatin'  prairie  hay. 


170     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

I'm  on  my  best  horse  and  I'm  goin'  at  a  run, 
I'm  the  quickest  shootin'  cowboy  that  ever  pulled  a 
gun. 

I  went  to  the  wagon  to  get  my  roll, 

To  come  back  to  Texas,  dad-burn  my  soul. 

I  went  to  my  boss  to  draw  my  roll, 

He  had  figgered  it  out  I  was  nine  dollars  in  the  hole. 

I'll  sell  my  outfit  just  as  soon  as  I  can, 
I  won't  punch  cattle  for  no  damned  man. 

Goin'  back  to  town  to  draw  my  money, 
Goin'  back  home  to  see  my  honey. 

With  my  knees  in  the  saddle  and  my  seat  in  the  sky, 
I'll  quit  punching  cows  in  the  sweet  by  and  by. 

Coma  ti  yi  youpy,  youpy  ya,  youpy  ya, 
Coma  ti  yi  youpy,  youpy  ya. 

77 
THE  DYING  COWBOY 

As  I  walked  through  Tom  Sherman's  bar-room, 

Tom  Sherman's  bar-room  on  a  bright  summer's  day, 

There  I  spied  a  handsome  young  cowboy 

All  dressed  in  white  linen  as  though  for  the  grave. 


AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS      171 

Beat  your  drums  lowly,  and  play  your  fifes  slowly, 
Play  the  dead  march  as  you  bear  me  along, 

Take  me  to  the  graveyard  and  lay  the  sod  o'er  me, 
For  I'm  a  dying  cowboy  and  know  I've  done 
wrong. 

"I  know  by  your  appearance  you  must  be  a  cowboy," 
These  words  he  said  as  I  came  passing  by, 

"Come  sit  down  beside  me,  and  hear  my  sad  story, 
I'm  shot  through  the  breast  and  know  I  must  die. 

"Once  in  my  saddle  I  used  to  look  handsome, 

Once  in  my  saddle  I  used  to  feel  gay, 
I  first  went  to  drinking,  then  went  to  gambling, 

Got  into  a  fight  which  ended  my  day. 

"Go  and  tell  my  gray-haired  mother, 

Break  the  news  gently  to  sister  dear, 
But  never  a  word  of  this  place  must  you  mention 

When  a  crowd  gathers  round  you,  my  story  to  hear." 

78 
O  BURY  ME  NOT  ON  THE  LONE  PRAIRIE 

"  O  bury  me  not  on  the  lone  prairie," 
These  words  came  slowly  and  mournfully 
From  the  pallid  lips  of  a  youth  who  lay 
On  his  cold  damp  bed  at  the  close  of  day. 


172     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"0  bury  me  not  on  the  lone  prairie 
Where  the  wild  coyote  will  howl  o'er  me, 
Where  the  cold  wind  weeps  and  the  grasses  wave; 
No  sunbeams  rest  on  a  prairie  grave." 

He  has  wasted  and  pined  till  o'er  his  brow 
Death's  shades  are  slowly  gathering  now; 
He  thought  of  his  home  with  his  loved  ones  nigh, 
As  the  cowboys  gathered  to  see  him  die. 

Again  he  listened  to  well  known  words, 
To  the  wind's  soft  sigh  and  the  song  of  birds; 
He  thought  of  his  home  and  his  native  bowers, 
Where  he  loved  to  roam  in  his  childhood  hours. 

"I've  ever  wished  that  when  I  died, 
My  grave  might  be  on  the  old  hillside, 
Let  there  the  place  of  my  last  rest  be — 
O  bury  me  not  on  the  lone  prairie ! 

"O'er  my  slumbers  a  mother's  prayer 
And  a  sister's  tears  will  be  mingled  there; 
For  'tis  sad  to  know  that  the  heart-throb's  o'er, 
And  that  its  fountain  will  gush  no  more. 

"In  my  dreams  I  say" —  but  his  voice  failed  there; 
And  they  gave  no  heed  to  his  dying  prayer; 
In  a  nanow  grave  six  feet  by  three, 
They  buried  him  there  on  the  lone  prairie. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS      173 

May  the  light  winged  butterfly  pause  to  rest 
O'er  him  who  sleeps  on  the  prairie's  crest; 
May  the  Texas  rose  in  the  breezes  wave 
O'er  him  who  sleeps  in  a  prairie's  grave. 

And  the  cowboys  now  as  they  roam  the  plain, 

(For  they  marked  the  spot  where  his  bones  have  lain) 

Fling  a  handful  of  roses  over  his  grave, 

With  a  prayer  to  him  who  his  soul  will  save. 

79 
I  WANT  TO  BE  A  COWBOY 

I  want  to  be  a  cowboy  and  with  the  cowboys  stand, 
Big  spurs  upon  my  bootheels  and  a  lasso  in  my  hand; 
My  hat  broad  brimmed  and  belted  upon  my  head 

I'll  place, 
And  wear  my  chaparajos  with  elegance  and  grace. 

The  first  bright  beam  of  sunlight  that  paints  the  east 

with  red 
Would  call  me  forth  to  breakfast  on  bacon,  beans, 

and  bread; 

And  then  upon  my  broncho  so  festive  and  so  bold 
I'd  rope  the  frisky  heifer  and  chase  the  three  year  old. 

And  when  my  work  is  over  to  Cheyenne  then  I'll  head, 
Fill  up  on  beer  and  whiskey  and  paint  the  damn  town 
red. 


174     AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS 

I'll   gallop   through   the   front   streets   with   many    a 

frightfuU  yell; 
I'll  rope  the  slant  old  heathen  and  yank  them  straight 

to  hell. 


80 


WHOOPEE  TI  YI  YO,  GIT  ALONG  LITTLE 
DOGIES 

As  I  walked  out  one  morning  for  pleasure, 

I  spied  a  cow-puncher  all  riding  alone; 

His  hat  was  thro  wed  back  and  his  spurs  was  a-jingling, 

As  he  approached  me  a-singin'  this  song. 

Whoopee  ti  yi  yo,  git  along  little  dogies, 
It's  your  misfortune,  and  none  of  my  own, 
Whoopee  ti  yi  yo,  git  along  little  dogies, 
For  you  know  Wyoming  will  be  your  new  home. 

Early  in  the  spring  we  round  up  the  dogies, 
Mark  and  brand  and  bob  off  their  tails; 
Round  up  our  horses,  load  up  the  chuck-wagon, 
Then  throw  the  dogies  upon  the  trail. 

It's  whooping  and  yelling  and  driving  the  dogies; 
Oh,  how  I  wish  you  would  go  on ; 
It's  whooping  and  punching  and  go  on  little  dogies, 
For  you  know  Wyoming  will  be  your  new  home. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS      175 

Some  boys  goes  up  the  trail  for  pleasure, 
But  that's  where  you  get  it  most  awfully  wrong; 
For  you  haven't  any  idea  the  trouble  they  gave  us 
While  we  go  driving  them  along. 

When  the  night  comes  on  and  we  hold  them  on  the 

bedground, 

These  little  dogies  that  roll  on  so  slow; 
Roll  up  the  herd  and  cut  out  the  strays, 
And  roll  the  little  dogies  that  never  rolled  before. 

Your  mother  she  was  raised  way  down  in  Texas, 
Where  the  jimson  weed  and  sand-burrs  grow; 
Now  we'll  fill  you  up  on  prickly  pear  and  cholla 
Till  you  are  ready  for  the  trail  to  Idaho. 

Oh  you'll  be  soup  for  Uncle  Sam's  Injuns; 
"It's  beef,  heap  beef,"  I  hear  them  cry. 
Git  along,  git  along,  git  along  little  dogies, 
You're  going  to  be  beef  steers  by  and  by. 

81 
CHEYENNE  BOYS 

Come  all  you  pretty  girls  and  listen  to  my  noise, 
I'll  tell  you  not  to  marry  the  Cheyenne  boys, 
For  if  you  do  a  portion  it  will  be ; 
Cold  butter  milk  and  Johnnie  cake  is  all  you'll  see. 
Cold  butter  milk  and  Johnnie  cake  is  all  you'll  see. 


176     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND    SONGS 

They'll  take  you  down  to  a  sandy  hill, 

Take  you  down  contrary  to  your  will; 

Put  you  down  in  some  lonesome  place, 

And  that's  just  the  way  with  the  Cheyenne  race, 

And  that's  just  the  way  with  the  Cheyenne  race. 

When  they  go  to  church  I'll  tell  you  what  they  wear, 

An  old  gray  coat  all  covered  with  hair, 

An  old  gray  coat  all  torn  down, 

A  stove-pipe  hat  more  rim  than  crown, 

A  stove-pipe  hat  more  rim  than  crown. 

When  they  go  in,  down  they  set, 
Take  out  their  handerchief  and  wipe  off  the  sweat, 
Look  at  all  the  pretty  girls  and  then  begin  to  laugh, 
And  roll  around  their  eyes  like  a  dying  calf, 
And  roll  around  their  eyes  like  a  dying  calf. 

82 
BREAKING  IN  A  TENDERFOOT 

'Twas  then  I  thought  I'd  have  some  fun, 
And  see  how  cowpunching  was  done; 
So  when  the  roundups  had  begun 
I  tackled  a  cattle  king. 

Says  he,  "My  foreman's  here  in  town; 
He  stops  at  Dyer's,  his  name's  Brown." 
We  started  for  the  ranch  next  day; 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     177 

The  foreman  jollied  me  all  the  way, 
"Cowpunching  was  only  play." 

"'Twas  just  like  drifting  with  the  tide," 
All  I'd  have  to  do  was  to  ride; 
But  that  old  sinner,  how  he  lied, 

0  didn't  he  have  his  gall! 

They  saddled  me  up  on  an  old  gray  hack, 
With  a  great  big  "set-fast"  on  his  back, 
And  padded  him  up  with  a  gunny  sack, 
They  used  my  bedding  all. 

First  he  was  up  and  then  he  was  down, 
Jumped  up  in  the  air  and  turned  around, 
And  when  at  last  I  hit  the  ground, 

1  had  an  awful  fall. 

They  picked  me  up  and  carried  me  in, 
And  rubbed  me  down  with  a  rolling  pin,, 
"That's  the  way  we  all  begin, 
You've  done  well,"  says  Brown. 

"If  by  tomorrow  you  don't  die, 
We'll  give  you  another  horse  to  try." 
"O  won't  you  let  me  walk?"  says  I. 
Says  Brown,  "Yes,  into  town." 

They  gave  me  charge  of  the  cawy  herd, 
And  told  me  not  to  work  too  hard, 


178     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

That  all  I  had  to  do  was  guard, 
Those  cattle  from  gettin'  away. 

I  had  three  hundred  and  sixty  head, 
And  I  sometimes  wished  that  I  was  dead; 
Sometimes  my  horse  would  fall, 
And  I'd  go  on  like  a  cannon  ball. 

So  before  you  go  cowpunching, 

Kiss  your  wife, 

Get  a  heavy  insurance  on  your  life, 

Then  cut  your  throat  with  a  carving  knife, 

This  is  the  only  way. 

83 

STARVING  TO  DEATH  ON  A  GOVERNMENT 
CLAIM 

Frank  Baker's  my  name,  and  a  bachelor  I  am. 
I'm  keeping  old  batch  on  an  elegant  plan, 
You'll  find  me  out  west  in  the  county  of  Lane, 
A-starving  to  death  on  a  government  claim. 

My  house  is  constructed  of  natural  soil, 
The  walls  are  erected  according  to  Hoyle, 
The  roof  has  no  pitch,  but  is  level  and  plain, 
And  I  never  get  wet  till  it  happens  to  rain. 

Hurrah  for  Lane  county,  the  land  of  the  free, 
The  home  of  the  grasshopper,  bed-bug,  and  flea, 


AMERICAN   BALLADS   AND   SONGS      179 

I'll  holler  its  praises,  and  sing  of  its  fame, 
While  starving  to  death  on  a  government  claim. 

How  happy  I  am  as  I  crawl  into  bed, 

The  rattlesnakes  rattling  a  tune  at  my  head, 

While  the  gay  little  centipede,  so  void  of  all  fear, 

Crawls  over  my  neck,  and  into  my  ear; 

And  the  gay  little  bed-bug  so  cheerful  and  bright, 

He  keeps  me  a-going  two-thirds  of  the  night. 

My  clothes  are  all  ragged,  my  language  is  rough, 
My  bread  is  case-hardened,  both  solid  and  tough, 
The  dough  it  is  scattered  all  over  the  room, 
And  the  floor  would  get  scared  at  the  sight  of  a  broom. 

The  dishes  are  scattered  all  over  the  bed, 


covered  with  sorghum,  and  government  bread, 

I  have  a  good  time,  and  I  live  at  my  ease, 
V   On  common  sop  sorghum,  an'  bacon  an'  cheese. 

How  happy  I  am  on  my  government  claim, 
I've  nothing  to  lose,  I've  nothing  to  gain, 
I've  nothing  to  eat  and  I've  nothing  to  wear, 
And  nothing  from  nothing  is  honest  and  fair. 

Oh,  here  I  am  safe,  so  here  I  will  stay, 
My  money's  all  gone,  and  I  can't  get  away, 
There's  nothing  to  make  a  man  hard  and  profane, 
Like  starving  to  death  on  a  government  claim. 


180     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Now  come  on  to  Lane  county,  there's  room  for  you  all, 
Where  the  wind  never  ceases,  and  the  rains  never  fall, 
Come  join  in  our  chorus  to  sing  for  its  fame, 
You  sinners  that're  stuck  on  your  government  claim. 

Now  hurrah  for  Lane  county,  where  the  blizzards  arise, 
The  wind  never  ceases,  and  the  moon  never  rise, 
Where  the  sun  never  sets,  but  it  always  remains, 
Till  it  burns  us  all  out  on  our  government  claims. 

Now  don't  get  discouraged,  you  poor  hungry  men. 
You're  all  just  as  free  as  the  pig  in  the  pen, 
Just  stick  to  your  homestead,  and  battle  the  fleas, 
And  look  to  your  Maker  to  send  you  a  breeze. 

Hurrah  for  Lane  county,  the  land  of  the  West, 
Where  the  farmers  and  laborers  are  ever  at  rest; 
There's  nothing  to  do  but  to  stick  and  remain, 
And  starve  like  a  dog  on  a  government  claim. 

Now,  all  your  poor  sinners,  I  hope  you  will  stay, 
And  chew  the  hard  rag  till  you're  toothless  and  gray, 
But  as  for  myself,  I'll  no  longer  remain, 
To  starve  like  a  dog  on  a  government  claim. 

Farewell  to  Lane  county,  farewell  to  the  West, 
I'll  travel  back  east  to  the  girl  I  love  best, 
I'll  stop  at  Missouri  and  get  me  a  wife, 
Then  live  on  corn  dodgers,  the  rest  of  my  life. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     181 
..J  84 

THE  BUFFALO  SKINNERS 

Come  all  you  jolly  fellows  and  listen  to  my  song, 
There  are  not  many  verses,  it  will  not  detain  you  long; 
It's  concerning  some  young  fellows  who  did  agree  to  go 
And  spend  one  summer  pleasantly  on  the  range  of  the 
buffalo. 

It  happened  in  Jacksboro  in  the  spring  of  seventy-three, 
A  man  by  the  name  of  Crego  came  stepping  up  to  me, 
Saying,  "How  do  you  do,  young  fellow,  and  how  would 

you  like  to  go 
And  spend  one  summer  pleasantly  on  the  range  of  the 

buffalo?" 

It's  me  being  out  of  employment,  this  to  Crego  I  did 

say, 
"This  going  out  on  the  buffalo  range  depends  upon  the 

pay. 

But  if  you  will  pay  good  wages  and  transportation  too, 
I  think,  sir,  I  will  go  with  you  to  the  range  of  the 

buffalo." 

Yes,  I  will  pay  good  wages,  give  transportation  too, 
Provided  you  will  go  with  me  and  stay  the  summer 

through ; 
But   if   you   should   grow   homesick,    come   back   to 

Jacksboro, 


182     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

I   won't  pay  transportation  from   the  range   of  the? 
buffalo." 

It's  now  our  outfit  was  complete— seven  able-bodied 
men, 

With  navy  six  and  needle  gun— our  troubles  did  begin; 
Our  way  it  was  a  pleasant  one,  the  route  we  had  to  go,' 
Until  we  crossed  Pease  River  on  the  range  of  the 
buffalo. 

It's  now  we've  crossed  Pease  River,  our  troubles  have 

begun. 
The  first  damned  tail  I  went  to  rip,  Christ!  how  I  cut 

my  thumb! 
While  skinning  the  damned  old  stinkers  our  lives  wasn't 

a  show, 
For  the  Indians  watched  to  pick  us  off  while  skinning 

the  buffalo. 

He  fed  us  on  such  sorry  truck  I  wished  myself  'most 

dead, 

It  was  old  jerked  beef,  croton  coffee,  and  sour  bread. 
Pease  River's  as  salty  as  hell  fire,  the  water  I  could 

never  go, — 
O  God!  I  wished  I  had  never  come  to  the  range  of  the 

buffalo. 

Our  meat  it  was  buffalo  hump  and  iron  wedge  bread, 
And  all  we  had  to  sleep  on  was  a  buffalo  robe  for  a  bed; 


AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS      183 

The  fleas  and  gray-backs  worked  on  us,  0  boys,  it  was 

not  slow, 
I'll  tell  you  there's  no  worse  hell  on  earth  than  the 

range  of  the  buffalo. 

Our  hearts  were  cased  with  buffalo  hocks,  our  souls 

were  cased  with  steel, 
And  the  hardships  of  that  summer  would  nearly  make 

us  reel. 
While  skinning  the  damned  old  stinkers  our  lives  they 

had  no  show, 
For  the  Indians  waited  to  pick  us  off  on  the  hills  of 

Mexico. 

The  season  being  near  over,  old  Crego  he  did  say 
The  crowd  had  been  extravagant,  was  in  debt  to  him 

that  day, — 
We  coaxed  him  and  we  begged  him  and  still  it  was  no 

go,— 
We  left  old  Crego's  bones  to  bleach  on  the  range  of  the 

buffalo. 

Oh,  it's  now  we've  crossed  Pease  River  and  homeward 

we  are  bound, 
No  more  in  that  hell-fired  country  shall  we  ever  be 

found. 
Go  home  to  our  wives  and  sweethearts,  tell  others  not 

to  go, 
For  God's  forsaken  the  buffalo  range  and  the  damned 

old  buffalo. 


184     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

85 
THE    KINKAIDER'S   SONG 

You  ask  what  place  I  like  the  best, 
The  sand  hills,  O  the  old  sand  hills; 
The  place  Kinkaiders  make  their  home 
And  prairie  chickens  freely  roam. 

Chorus  (for  first  and  second  verses) : 

In  all  Nebraska's  wide  domain 
'Tis  the  place  we  long  to  see  again; 
The  sand  hills  are  the  very  best, 
She  is  queen  of  all  the  rest. 

The  corn  we  raise  is  our  delight, 
The  melons,  too,  are  out  of  sight. 
Potatoes  grown  are  extra  fine 
And  can't  be  beat  in  any  clime. 

The  peaceful  cows  in  pastures  dream 
And  furnish  us  with  golden  cream, 
So  I  shall  keep  my  Kinkaid  home 
And  never  far  away  shall  roam. 

Chorus  (third  verse) : 

Then  let  us  all  with  hearts  sincere 
Thank  him  for  what  has  brought  us  here, 
And  for  the  homestead  law  he  made, 
This  noble  Moses  P.  Kinkaid. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     185 

86 
DAKOTA  LAND 

We've  reached  the  land  of  desert  sweet, 
Where  nothing  grows  for  man  to  eat. 
The  wind  it  blows  with  feverish  heat 
Across  the  plains  so  hard  to  beat. 

0  Dakota  land,  sweet  Dakota  land, 
As  on  thy  fiery  soil  I  stand  • 

1  look  across  the  plains 

And  wonder  why  it  never  rains, 
Till  Gabriel  blows  his  trumpet  sound 
And  says  the  rain's  just  gone  around. 

We  have  no  wheat,  we  have  no  oats, 
We  have  no  corn  to  feed  our  shoats; 
Our  chickens  are  so  very  poor 
They  beg  for  crumbs  outside  the  door. 

Our  horses  are  of  broncho  race; 
Starvation  stares  them  in  the  face. 
We  do  not  live,  we  only  stay; 
We  are  too  poor  to  get  away. 

87 
THE  DREARY  BLACK  HILLS 

Now  friends  if  you'll  listen  to  a  horrible  tale 

It's  getting  quite  dreary  and  it's  getting  quite  stale, 


186     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

I  gave  up  my  trade  selling  Ayers'  Patent  Pills 
To  go  and  hunt  gold  in  the  dreary  Black  Hills. 

Stay  away,  I  say,  stay  away  if  you  can 
Far  from  that  city  they  call  Cheyenne, 
Where  the  blue  waters  roll  and  Comanche  Bill 
Will  take  off  your  scalp,  boys,  in  those  dreary  Black 
Hills. 

Now,  friends,  if  you'll  listen  to  a  story  untold 
Don't  go  to  the  Black  Hills  a-digging  for  gold; 
For  the  railroad  speculators  their  pockets  will  fill, 
While  taking  you  a  round  trip  to  the  dreary  Black  Hills. 

I  went  to  the  Black  Hills,  no  gold  could  I  find. 
I  thought  of  the  free  land  I'd  left  far  behind; 
Through  rain,  snow,  and  hail,  boys,  froze  up  to  the  gills, 
They  called  me  the  orphan  of  the  dreary  Black  Hills. 

The  round  house  at  Cheyenne  is  filled  every  night 

With  loafers  and  beggars  of  every  kind  of  sight; 

On  their  backs  there's  no  clothes,  boys,  in  their  pockets 

no  bills. 
And  they'll  take  of!  your  scalp  in  those  dreary  Black 

Hills. 

88 

JOE  BOWERS 

My  name  it  is  Joe  Bowers, 
I've  got  a  brother  Ike; 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS      187 

I  come  from  Old  Missouri, 
It's  all  the  way  from  Pike. 
I'll  tell  you  how  I  came  here, 
And  how  I  came  to  roam, 
And  leave  my  good  old  mammy, 
So  far  away  from  home. 

There  was  a  gal  in  our  town, 
Her  name  was  Sally  Black; 
I  asked  her  for  to  marry  me, 
She  said  it  was  a  whack. 
Says  she  to  me,  "Joe  Bowers, 
Before  we  hitch  for  life 
You  ought  to  have  a  little  home 
To  keep  your  little  wife." 

Says  I  to  her,  "Dear  Sally! 
All  for  your  own  dear  sake, 
I'm  off  to  California 
To  try  to  raise  a  stake." 
Says  she  to  me,  "Joe  Bowers, 
You  are  the  man  to  win, 
Here's  a  kiss  to  bind  the  bargain," 
And  she  threw  a  dozen  in. 

When  I  got  to  this  country 
I  hadn't  nary  red. 
I  had  such  wolfish  feelings, 
I  almost  wished  I 'as  dead. 
But  when  I  thought  of  Sally 


188     AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

It  made  those  feelings  git, 

And  raised  the  hopes  of  Bowers — 

I  wish  I  had  'em  yet. 

And  so  I  went  to  mining, 
Put  in  my  biggest  licks; 
Come  down  upon  the  boulders 
Like  a  thousand  of  bricks. 
I  labored  late  and  early, 
In  rain  an'  sun  an'  snow, 
I  was  working  for  my  Sally — 
'Twas  all  the  same  to  Joe. 

One  day  I  got  a  letter, 
'Twas  from  my  brother  Ike; 
It  came  from  Old  Missouri, 
And  all  the  way  from  Pike. 
It  was  the  darndest  letter 
That  ever  I  did  see, 
And  brought  the  darndest  news 
That  was  ever  brought  to  me. 

It  said  that  Sal  was  false  to  me — 

It  made  me  cuss  and  swear — 

How  she'd  went  and  married  a  butcher, 

And  the  butcher  had  red  hair; 

And,  whether  'twas  gal  or  boy 

The  letter  never  said, 

But  that  Sally  had  a  baby, 

And  the  baby's  head  was  red! 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     189 
89 

IN  THE  SUMMER  OF  SIXTY 

In  the  summer  of  sixty  as  you  very  well  know 
The  excitement  at  Pike's  Peak  was  then  all  the  go; 
Many  went  there  with  fortunes  and  spent  what  they 

had 
And  came  back  flat-busted  and  looking  quite  sad. 

'Twas  then  I  heard  farming  was  a  very  fine  branch, 
So  I  spent  most  of  my  money  in  buying  a  ranch, 
And  when  I  got  to  it  with  sorrow  and  shame 
I  found  a  big  miner  had  jumped  my  fine  claim. 

So  I  bought  a  revolver  and  swore  I'd  lay  low 
The  very  next  fellow  that  treated  me  so; 
I  then  went  to  Denver  and  cut  quite  a  dash 
And  "took  extra  pains  to  show  off  my  cash. 

With  a  fine  span  of  horses,  my  wife  by  my  side, 
I  drove  through  the  streets  with  my  hat  on  one  side; 
As  we  were  agoin'  past  the  old  " Denver  Hall" 
Sweet  music  came  out  that  did  charm  us  all. 

Says  I,  "  Let's  go  in  and  see  what's  the  muss 
For  I  feel  right  now  like  having  a  fuss." 
There  were  tables  strung  over  the  hall, 
Some  was  a-whirling  a  wheel  with  a  ball. 


190     AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS 

Some  playin'  cards  and  some  shakin'  dice 

And  lots  of  half  dollars  that  looked  very  nice; 

I  finally  strayed  to  a  table  at  last 

Where  all  the  poor  suckers  did  seem  to  stick  fast. 

And  there  stood  a  man  with  cards  in  his  hand, 
And  these  were  the  words  which  he  did  command, 
"Now,  gents,  the  winning  card  is  the  ace, 
I  guess  you  will  know  it  if  I  show  you  its  face." 

One  corner  turned  down,  it's  plain  to  be  seen, 
I  looked  at  that  fellow  and  thought  he  was  green, 
Yes  I  looked  at  that  feller  and  thought  he  was  green, 
One  corner  turned  down,  'twas  so  plain  to  be  seen. 

So  I  bet  all  my  money  and  lo  and  behold ! 
'Twas  a  tray-spot  of  clubs  and  he  took  all  my  gold. 
Then  I  went  home  and  crawled  into  bed 
And  the  divil  a  word  to  my  wife  ever  said. 

'Twas  early  next  morning  I  felt  for  my  purse 
Biting  my  lips  to  keep  down  a  curse; 
Yes,  'twas  early  next  morning  as  the  sun  did  rise 
You  might  have  seen  with  your  two  blessed  eyes, 

In  an  ox  wagon,  'twas  me  and  my  wife 

Goin'  down  the  Platte  river  for  death  or  for  life. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     191 

90 
THE  DYING  CALIFORNIAN 

Lay  up  nearer,  brother,  nearer 

For  my  limbs  are  growing  cold, 
And  thy  presence  seemeth  dearer 

When  thine  arms  around  me  fold. 
I  am  dying,  brother,  dying, 

Soon  you'll  miss  me  in  your  berth, 
And  my  form  will  soon  be  lying 

'Neath  the  ocean's  briny  surf. 

Harken,  brother,  closely  harken. 

I  have  something  I  would  say, 
Ere  the  vale  my  visions  darken 

And  I  go  from  hence  away. 
I  am  going,  surely  going, 

For  my  hope  in  God  is  strong, 
I  am  willing,  brother,  knowing 

That  he  doeth  nothing  wrong. 

Tell  my  father  when  you  greet  him 

That  in  death  I  prayed  for  him, 
Prayed  that  I  might  one  day  meet  him 

In  a  world  that  is  free  from  sin. 
Tell  my  mother  God  assist  her 

Now  that  she  is  growing  old, 
Tell  her  child  would  glad  have  kissed  her 

When  his  lips  grew  pale  and  cold. 


192     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

0  my  children,  heaven  bless  them, 

They  were  all  my  life  to  me, 
Would  I  could  once  more  caress  them 

Ere  I  sink  beneath  the  sea. 
Listen,  brother,  catch  each  whisper, 

'Tis  my  wife  I  speak  of  now, 
Tell,  O  tell  her  how  I  missed  her 

When  the  fever  burned  my  brow. 

Tell  her  she  must  kiss  my  children 

Like  the  kiss  I  last  impressed. 
Hold  them  as  when  last  I  held  them 

Folded  closely  to  my  breast. 
Give  them  early  to  their  maker, 

Putting  all  their  trust  in  God, 
And  he  never  will  forsake  them 

For  he  said  so  in  his  word. 

Tell  my  sister  when  I  remember 

Every  kindly  parting  word, 
And  my  heart  has  been  kept  tender 

With  the  thought  this  memory  stirred. 
'Twas  for  them  I  crossed  the  ocean — 

What  my  hopes  were  I'll  not  tell; 
And  I've  gained  an  orphan's  portion, 

Yet  he  doeth  all  things  well. 

Tell  them  I  never  reach  that  haven 
Where  I  sought  the  "precious  dust," 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     193 

But  I've  gained  a  port  called  Heaven 

Where  the  gold  will  never  rust. 
Hark,  I  hear  my  Saviour  speaking, 

'Tis  his  voice  I  know  so  well. 
When  I  am  gone,  0  don't  be  weeping. 

Brother,  here  is  my  last  farewell. 


MISCELLANEOUS 
BALLADS  AND  SONGS 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS      197 

91 
THE  PRETTY  MOHEA 

As  I  went  out  walking  for  pleasure  one  day, 
In  sweet  recreation  to  while  time  away; 
As  I  sat  amusing  myself  on  the  grass, 
O  who  should  I  spy  but  a  fair  Indian  lass. 

She  sat  down  beside  me,  and  taking  my  hand 
Said  "You  are  a  stranger  and  in  a  strange  land; 
But  if  you  will  follow  you're  welcome  to  come 
And  dwell  in  the  cottage  that  I  call  my  home." 

The  sun  was  fast  sinking  far  o'er  the  blue  sea, 
When  I  wandered  alone  with  my  pretty  Mohea. 
Together  we  wandered,  together  did  rove, 
Till  we  come  to  the  cot  in  the  cocoanut  grove. 

Then  this  kind  expression  she  made  unto  me : 
"  If  you  will  consent,  sir,  to  stay  here  with  me 
And  go  no  more  roving  upon  the  salt  sea, 
I'll  teach  you  the  language  of  the  lass  of  Mohea." 

"  0  no,  my  dear  maiden,  that  never  could  be ; 
For  I  have  a  true  love  in  my  own  country; 
And  I'll  not  forsake  her  for  I  know  she  loves  me, 
And  her  heart  is  as  true  as  the  pretty  Mohea." 

'Twas  early  one  morning,  a  morning  in  May, 
That  to  this  fair  maiden  these  words  I  did  say : 


198     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"I'm  going  to  leave  you,  so  farewell  my  dear; 

My  ship's  sails  are  spreading  and  home  I  must  steer." 

The  last  time  I  saw  her  she  stood  on  the  strand; 
And  as  the  boat  passed  her  she  waved  me  her  hand, 
Saying,  "When  you  have  landed  with  the  girl  that  you 

love, 
Think  of  little  Mohea  in  the  cocoanut  grove." 

And  then  when  I  landed  on  my  own  native  shore, 
With  friends  and  relations  around  me  once  more, 
I  gazed  all  about  me — Not  one  could  I  see 
That  was  fit  to  compare  with  the  little  Mohea. 

And  the  girl  that  I  trusted  proved  untrue  to  me; 
So  I'll  turn  my  course  backward  far  o'er  the  deep  sea. 
I'll  turn  my  course  backward;  from  this  land  I'll  flee; 
I'll  go  spend  my  days  with  my  pretty  Mohea. 

92 
(A)  KATIE'S  SECRET 

The  sunlight  is  beautiful,  mother, 

And  bloom  the  flowers  today; 
And  birds  in  the  branches  of  hawthorne 

Were  carolling  ever  so  gay; 
And  down  by  the  rock  in  the  meadow 

The  rill  ripples  by  with  a  song, 
And,  mother,  I  too  have  been  singing 

The  merriest  all  the  day  long. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     199 

Last  night  I  was  weeping,  dear  mother, 

Last  night  I  was  weeping  alone, 
This  world  seemed  so  dark  and  so  dreary 

My  heart  felt  as  heavy  as  stone. 
I  thought  of  the  lonely  and  loveless, 

So  lonely  and  loveless  was  I ; 
I  scarcely  know  why  it  was,  mother, 

But  thought  I  was  wishing  to  die. 

Last  night  I  was  weeping,  dear  mother, 

When  Willie  came  down  to  the  gate, 
And  whispered,  "  Come  out  in  the  moonlight, 

Fve  something  to  say  to  you,  Kate." 
And,  mother,  to  him  I  am  dearer 

Than  all  this  wide  world  beside, 
For  he  told  me  to  sit  in  the  moonlight, 

And  called  me  his  darling,  his  bride. 

So  now  I  will  gather  my  roses, 

And  twine  them  in  my  long  braided  hair; 
And  Willie  will  come  in  the  evening 

And  smile  when  he  sees  me  so  fair. 
And  down  by  the  brookside  we'll  ramble 

Way  down  by  the  great  hawthorne  tree; 
And,  mother,  I  wonder  if  any 

Were  ever  so  happy  as  we. 

(B)  THE  HAWTHORNE  TREE 

Last  night  I  was  sleeping,  dear  mother, 
When  Willie  came  down  by  the  gate; 


200     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

He  whispered,  "Come  out  in  the  moonlight, 
I've  something  to  say  to  you,  Kate." 

We  wandered  way  down  in  the  bushes, 
'Neath  the  tall  old  hawthorne  tree, 

O,  mother,  I  wonder  if  any  were 
Ever  so  happy  as  we! 

And,  mother,  to  him  I  am  dearer 
Than  all  in  this  wide  world  beside. 

He  told  me  so,  out  in  the  moonlight, 
He  called  me  his  darling,  his  bride. 

And  soon  they  will  gather  wild  flowers, 

To  twine  in  my  long  braided  hair; 
Then  Willie  will  come  in  the  evening 

And  smile  when  he  sees  me  so  fair. 

93 
MARY  AND  WILLIE 

As  Mary  and  Willie  sat  by  the  sea  shore, 

Their  last  farewell  to  take, 
Said  Mary  to  Willie,  "You're  now  going  to  sea, 

I  fear  that  my  fond  heart  will  break." 
"O  don't  be  despairing,"  young  Willie  then  said, 

And  pressed  his  fair  maid  to  his  side; 
"My  absence  don't  mourn,  for  when  I  return, 

I'll  make  little  Mary  my  bride." 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     201 

Three  years  having  passed  without  any  news, 

As  Mary  stands  by  her  own  door, 
An  old  beggar  came  by  with  a  patch  on  his  eye, 

And  did  for  her  pity  implore. 
"Fair  lady,"  cried  he,  "your  charity  bestow, 

And  I'll  tell  your  fortune  beside; 
The  lad  whom  you  mourn  will  never  return 

To  make  little  Mary  his  bride." 

"0  if  it  be  true  you  tell  unto  me, 

My  Willie,  my  hero,  still  lives, 
O  if  it  be  true,  straightway  unto  you, 

All  the  money  I  have  I  will  give." 
"He  is  living,"  quoth  he,  "all  in  poverty; 

He  has  been  shipwrecked  beside; 
He'll  return  no  more  because  he  is  poor, 

To  make  little  Mary  his  bride." 

"May  the  heavens  above  know  the  joy  that  I  feel, 

And  for  his  misfortune  I'll  mourn; 
He's  welcome  to  me,  all  in  poverty, 

With  his  blue  jacket  tattered  and  torn." 
The  beggar  threw  by  the  patch  from  his  eye, 

Likewise  the  crutch  from  his  side; 
Blue  jacket  and  trousers  and  cheeks  like  a  rose, 

Young  Willie  stood  by  Mary's  side. 

"Forgive  me,  fair  lady,  forgive  me,"  he  cried, 

"It  was  only  your  love  that  I  tried; 
To  the  church  we'll  away  before  close  of  day, 


202     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

To  make  little  Mary  my  bride. 
I've  money  in  plenty  and  riches  untold, 

I  never  was  shipwrecked  beside; 
In  coaches  we'll  roll  all  covered  with  gold, 

When  I  make  little  Mary  my  bride." 

94 
KITTY  WELLS 

You  ask  what  makes  this  darkey  weep, 

Why  he,  like  others,  am  not  gay, 
What  makes  the  tears  roll  down  his  cheek 

From  early  morn  till  close  of  day; 
My  story  now  you  all  shall  hear, 

For  in  my  memory  fond  it  dwells; 
'Twill  cause  you  each  to  shed  a  tear 

O'er  the  grave  of  my  sweet  Kitty  Wells. 

Where  the  birds  were  singing  in  the  morning, 
And  the  myrtle  and  the  ivy  were  in  bloom, 
While  the  sun  o'er  the  hill-tops  was  dawning, 
'Twas  there  they  laid  her  in  her  tomb. 

I  never  shall  forget  the  day 

When  with  sweet  Kitty  in  the  dells 
I  kissed  her  cheek  and  named  the  day 

That  I  should  marry  Kitty  Wells. 
But  death  came  to  her  cottage  door, 

And  stole  away  my  joy  and  pride; 
And  when  I  found  she  was  no  more, 

I  laid  my  banjo  down  and  cried. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     203 

95 
PASTORAL  ELEGY 

What  sorrowful  sounds  do  I  hear 
Move  slowly  along  in  the  gale? 
How  solemn  the  bell  on  my  ear 
As  softly  they  pass  through  the  gale ! 
Sweet  Coroden's  notes  are  all  o'er, 
How  lonely  he  sleeps  in  the  clay! 
His  cheeks  bloom  with  roses  no  more 
Since  death  called  his  spirit  away. 

Sweet  woodbine  will  rise  round  his  tomb, 
And  willows  there  sorrowing  wave, 
Young  hyacinths  freshen  and  bloom 
While  hawthorns  encircle  his  grave. 
Each  morn  when  the  sun  guiles  the  east, 
The  green  grass  bespangles  with  dew, 
He'll  cast  his  bright  beams  on  the  west 
To  cheer  the  sad  Caroline's  view- 

O  Coroden,  hear  the  sad  cries 
Of  Caroline  plaintive  and  low! 
O  spirit  look  down  from  the  skies, 
And  pity  the  mourner  below! 
'Tis  Caroline's  voice  in  the  grove, 
Which  Philomel  heard  on  the  plain; 
Then  striving  the  mourner  to  soothe, 
With  sympathy  join  in  her  strain. 


204     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Ye  shepherds  so  blithesome  and  young, 
Retire  from  your  sports  on  the  green. 
Since  Coroden's  deaf  to  my  song, 
The  wolves  tear  the  lambs  in  the  plain. 
Each  swain  round  the  forest  will  stray, 
And  sorrowing  hung  down  his  head. 
His  pipe  then  in  sympathy  played 
Some  dirge  to  young  Coroden's  shade. 

And  when  the  still  night  has  unfurled 
Her  robes  o'er  the  hamlet  around; 
Gray  twilight  retires  from  the  world 
And  darkness  encumbers  the  ground. 
I'll  leave  my  own  gloomy  abode, 
To  Coroden's  urn  will  I  fly; 
Then  kneeling  will  bless  the  just  God 
Who  dwells  in  bright  mansions  on  high. 

Since  Coroden  hears  me  no  more 
In  gloom  let  the  woodlands  appear, 
Ye  oceans,  be  still  of  your  roar, 
Let  autumn  extend  round  the  year. 
I'll  hie  me  through  meadows  and  lawns, 
There  cull  the  bright  flowers  of  May; 
Then  rise  on  the  wings  of  the  morn 
And  waft  my  young  spirit  away. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     205 

96 
THE  COURTSHIP  OF  BILLY  GRIMES 

"Tomorrow,  Pa,  I'm  sweet  sixteen,  and  Billy  Grimes 

the  drover, 
Has  popped  the  question  to  me,  Pa,  and  wants  to  be 

my  lover; 
He's  coming  here  tomorrow,  Pa,  he's  coming  bright 

and  early, 
And  I'm  to  take  a  walk  with  him  across  the  fields  of 

barley." 

"You  shall  not  go,  my  daughter  dear,  now  there's  no 

use  in  talking; 
You  shall  not  go  with  Billy  Grimes  across  the  fields 

a- walking; 
To  think  of  such  presumption,  child,  that  ugly  dirty 

drover, 
I  don't  see  where  your  pride  has  gone,  to  think  of  such 

a  lover." 

"Old  Grimes  is  dead,  you  know,  Papa,  and  Billy  is 

so  lonely, 
Old  Grimes  is  dead,  you  know,  Papa,  and  Billy  is  the 

only 
Surviving  heir  to  all  that's  left,  a  good  ten  thousand 

nearly, 
Besides  he  is  the  only  heir  of  about  three  thousand 

yearly." 


206     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"I  did  not  hear,  my  daughter  dear,  your  last  remark 

quite  clearly, 

But  Billy  is  a  goodly  lad,  no  doubt  he  loves  you  dearly; 
Tomorrow  morning  he  may  come,  he  may  come  bright 

and  early, 
And  you  may  take  a  walk  with  him  across  the  fields  of 

barley." 

97 
FAIR  FANNY  MOORE 

Yonder  stands  a  cottage  all  deserted  and  lone, 
Its  paths  are  neglected,  with  grass  overgrown, 
Go  in  and  you'll  see  some  dark  stains  on  the  floor — 
Alas!  it  is  the  blood  of  the  fair  Fanny  Moore. 

To  Fanny  so  blooming  two  lovers  there  came, 
One  offered  young  Fanny  his  wealth  and  his  name; 
But  neither  his  money  nor  pride  could  secure 
A  place  in  the  heart  of  the  fair  Fanny  Moore. 

The  first  was  young  Randall  so  bold  and  so  proud, 
When  to  the  fair  Fanny  his  haughty  head  bowed; 
But  his  wealth  and  his  house  both  failed  to  allure 
The  heart  from  the  bosom  of  fair  Fanny  Moore. 

The  next  was  young  Henry  of  lowest  degree, 
He  won  his  fond  love  and  enraptured  was  he; 
And  then  at  the  altar  he  quick  did  secure 
The  hand  and  the  heart  of  the  fair  Fanny  Moore. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     207 

As  she  was  alone  in  her  cottage  one  day, 
When  business  had  called  her  fond  husband  away, 
Young  Randall  the  haughty  came  in  at  the  door, 
And  clasped  in  his  arms  this  young  fair  Fanny  Moore . 

"Now  Fanny,  O  Fanny,  reflect  on  your  fate, 
And  accept  of  my  offer  before  'tis  too  late; 
For  one  thing  tonight  I  am  bound  to  secure, 
'Tis  the  love  or  the  life  of  the  fair  Fanny  Moore." 

"Spare  me,  O  spare  me,"  the  fair  Fanny  cries, 
While  the  tears  swiftly  flow  from  her  beautiful  eyes; 
"O  no,"  says  young  Randall,  "Go  home  to  your  rest," 
And  he  buried  his  knife  in  her  snowy  white  breast. 

So  Fanny  all  blooming  in  her  bright  beauty  died, 
Young  Randall  the  haughty  was  taken  and  tried; 
At  length  he  was  hung  on  a  tree  at  the  door, 
For  shedding  the  blood  of  the  fair  Fanny  Moore. 

Young  Henry  the  shepherd,  distracted  and  wild, 

Did  wander  away  from  his  own  native  isle ; 

Till  at  length  claimed  by  death,  he  was  brought  to 

the  shore 
And  laid  by  the  side  of  his  fair  Fanny  Moore. 

98 
I  WISH  I  WAS  SINGLE  AGAIN 

When  I  was  single,  0  then,  0  then, 
When  I  was  single,  0  then, 


208     AMERICAN   BALLADS   AND   SONGS 

When  I  was  single,  my  money  did  jingle, 
I  wish  I  was  single  again,  again, 
And  I  wish  I  was  single  again. 

I  married  me  a  wife,  O  then,  O  then, 

I  married  me  a  wife,  0  then, 

I  married  me  a  wife,  she's  the  plague  of  my  life, 

And  I  wished  I  was  single  again,  again, 

And  I  wished  I  was  single  again. 

My  wife  she  died,  0  then,  0  then, 
My  wife  she  died,  O  then, 
My  wife  she  died,  and  then  I  cried, 
To  think  I  was  single  again,  again, 
To  think  I  was  single  again. 

I  married  another,  the  devil's  grandmother, 

I  wished  I  was  single  again, 

For  when  I  was  single,  my  money  did  jingle, 

I  wish  I  was  single  again,  again, 

I  wish  I  was  single  again. 

99 
I'LL  NOT  MARRY  AT  ALL 

I'm  determined  to  live  an  old  maid, 
I'll  take  my  stool  and  sit  in  the  shade, 
And  I'll  not  marry  at  all,  at  all, 
And  I'll  not  marry  at  all. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     209 

O  I'll  not  marry  a  man  who's  rich, 
For  he'd  get  drunk  and  fall  in  a  ditch, 
And  I'll  not  marry  at  all,  at  all, 
And  I'll  not  marry  at  all. 

O  I'll  not  marry  a  man  who's  poor. 
For  he'd  go  begging  from  door  to  door, 
And  I'll  not  marry  at  all,  at  all, 
And  I'll  not  marry  at  all. 

O  I'll  not  marry  a  man  who  chews, 
For  he'll  go  slobbering  from  chin  to  shoes, 
And  I'll  not  marry  at  all,  at  all, 
And  I'll  not  marry  at  all. 

O  I'll  not  marry  a  man  who  smokes, 
For  that  would  not  please  the  old  folks, 
And  I'll  not  marry  at  all,  at  all 
And  I'll  not  marry  at  all. 

Yes,  I'm  determined  to  live  an  old  maid, 
I'll  take  my  stool  and  sit  in  the  shade, 
And  I'll  not  marry  at  all,  at  all, 
And  I'll  not  marry  at  all. 

100 
ROSEN  THE  BOW 

I  have  traveled  this  wide  world  all  over, 
And  now  to  another  I'll  go; 


210     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

For  I  know  that  good  quarters  are  waiting 
To  welcome  Old  Rosen  the  Bow. 

The  gay  round  of  delight  I  have  travelled, 

Nor  will  I  behind  leave  a  woe; 
For  when  my  companions  are  jovial, 

They  drink  to  Old  Rosen  the  Bow. 

This  life  is  now  drawing  to  a  closing, 

All  will  at  last  be  so; 
Then  we'll  take  a  full  bumper  at  parting, 

To  the  name  of  Old  Rosen  the  Bow. 

When  I  am  dead  and  laid  out  on  the  counter, 

And  the  people  all  anxious  to  know, 
Just  raise  up  the  lid  of  my  coffin 

And  look  at  Old  Rosen  the  Bow. 

And  when  through  all  the  streets  my  friends  bear  me, 

The  ladies  are  filled  with  deep  woe, 
They'll  come  to  the  doors  and  the  windows, 

And  sigh  for  Old  Rosen  the  Bow. 

Then  get  me  some  fine  jovial  fellows, 

And  let  them  all  staggering  go; 
Then  dig  a  deep  hole  in  the  meadow, 

And  in  it  toss  Rosen  the  Bow. 

Then  get  me  a  couple  of  dornicks, 
Place  one  at  my  head  and  my  toe, 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     211 

And  do  not  forget  to  scratch  on  them, 
"Here  lies  Old  Rosen  the  Bow." 

Then  let  those  same  jovial  fellows, 

Surround  my  grave  in  a  row, 
Whilst  they  drink  from  my  favorite  bottle 

The  health  to  old  Rosen  the  Bow. 

101 
EVALINA 

Way  down  in  the  meadow  where  the  lily  first  blows, 
Where  the  wind  from  the  mountain  never  ruffles    the 

rose, 

Lives  fond  Evalina,  the  sweet  little  dove, 
The  pride  of  the  valley,  the  girl  that  I  love. 

Sweet  Evalina,  dear  Evalina, 

My  love  for  thee  will  never,  never  die. 

She's  fair  as  the  rose,  like  a  lamb  she  is  meek, 
And  she  never  was  known  to  put  paint  on  her  cheek; 
In  the  most  graceful  curls  hangs  her  raven  black  hair, 
And  she  never  requires  perfumery  there. 

Evalina  and  I  one  fond  evening  in  June, 
Took  a  walk  all  alone  by  the  light  of  the  moon; 
The  planets  all  shone  for  the  heavens  were  clear, 
And  I  felt  round  my  heart  0  so  mightily  queer. 


212     AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS 

Three  years  have  gone  by  and  I've  not  got  a  dollar; 
Evalina  stills  lives  in  the  green  grassy  hollow; 
Although  I  am  fated  to  marry  her  never, 
I  love  her,  I'm  sure,  forever  and  ever. 


102 
MY  BLUE-EYED  BOY 

There  is  a  tree  I  love  to  pass, 
And  it  has  leaves  as  green  as  grass, 
But  not  as  green  as  love  is  true; 
I  love  but  one  and  that  is  you. 

Bring  to  me  my  blue-eyed  boy! 
Bring,  0  bring  him  back  to  rne! 
Bring  to  me  my  blue-eyed  boy, 
What  a  happy,  happy  girl  I'd  be. 

Must  I  go  bound  and  he  go  free? 
Must  I  love  one  that  don't  love  me? 
Or  must  I  act  a  childish  part 
And  love  the  one  that  broke  my  heart? 

Go  bear,  go  bear,  go  bear  in  mind 
That  a  good  true  friend  is  hard  to  find, 
And  when  you  find  one  good  and  true 
Never  change  the  old  one  for  the  new. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     213 

Adieu,  adieu  kind  friends,  adieu, 
I  can  no  longer  stay  with  you. 
I'll  hang  my  heart  in  a  willow  tree, 
And  give  it  to  the  one  that  first  loved  me. 

103 
THE  OLD   GRAY  MULE 

Mr.  Thomas  had  an  old  gray  mule, 

And  he  drove  him  to  a  cart, 
And  he  loved  that  mule  and  the  mule  loved  him 

With  all  his  mulish  heart. 
Mr.  Thomas  knowed  when  the  roosters  crowed 

That  day  was  a-gwine  to  break, 
So  he  slicked  that  mule  with  a  three-legged  stool, 

And  he  curried  him  off  with  a  rake. 

And  the  mule  would  ea-aw-w-w, 

Ee-aw,  ee-aw,  ee-aw-w-w, 
And  he  cuffed  that  mule  and  he  cuffed  that  mule, 

And  he  curried  him  off  with  a  rake. 

He  fed  him  on  some  old  boot  tops 

And  bits  of  yellow  clay, 
Some  shavings  and  some  wooden  pegs, 

Instead  of  oats  and  hay; 
And  the  mule  would  chaw  with  his  iron  jaw, 

On  a  piece  of  dirty  sock, 
And  he'd  wink  his  eye  if  he  had  some  pie, 

And  his  mouth  chuck  full  of  sock. 


214     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

That  mule  could  kick  like  a  ton  of  brick; 

Both  hind  legs  were  loose, 
And  he  flung  them  back  at  a  big  lipped  Jack, 

And  he  mashed  his  royal  snoot; 
That  negro  thought  that  he'd  been  caught 

In  an  awful  big  cyclone. 
And  you  bet  he  wished  that  he  had  let 

That  old  gray  mule  alone. 

One  day  while  wandering  in  a  field 

He  found  an  old  hoop  skirt; 
He  at  once  began  to  have  a  feast 

On  royal  rust  and  dirt. 
That  night  he  had  an  awful  cramp 

That  settled  in  his  feet, 
And  ere  morn  dawned  that  mule  had  gone 

To  walk  on  the  golden  street. 


104 
I  WILL  TELL  YOU  OF  A  FELLOW 

I  will  tell  you  of  a  fellow, 
Of  a  fellow  I  have  seen, 
Who  was  neither  white  nor  yellow, 
Nor  was  altogether  green. 

With  my  life  alure  a  lickem, 
With  my  life  alure  a  lem. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     21S 

0  he  came  one  night  to  see  me, 

And  he  made  so  long  a  stay, 
That  I  really  thought  the  blockhead 

Never  meant  to  go  away. 

With  my  life  alure  a  lickem,  etc. 

0  he  told  me  of  devotion, 

Of  devotion  pure  and  deep, 
And  he  talked  so  awful  silly 

That  I  nearly  fell  asleep. 

With  my  life  alure  a  lickem,  etc. 

O  he  told  me  of  a  cottage, 

Of  a  cottage  by  the  seas, 
And  then,  would  you  believe  it, 

Why,  he  tumbled  on  his  knees. 

With  my  life  alure  a  lickem,  etc. 

O  I  knew  I  couldn't  love  him, 

But  the  very  deuce  is  in  it; 
For  he  says  if  I  refuse  him, 

Why,  he  couldn't  live  a  minute. 

With  my  life  alure  a  lickem,  etc. 

And  you  know  the  blessed  Bible 

Plainly  says  we  mustn't  kill; 
So  I've  thought  the  matter  over, 

And  I  kind  of  think — I  will. 

With  my  life  alure  a  lickem,  etc. 


216     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

105 
THE  PREACHER'S   LEGACY 

O,  if  poor  sinners  did  but  know 

How  much  for  them  I  undergo, 

They  would  not  treat  me  with  contempt, 

Nor  curse  me  when  I  say  "  Repent." 

Give  credit  now  to  what  I  say, 

And  mind  it  till  the  judgment  day, 

Of  God  I'm  sent,  to  you  I  call, 

The  invitation  is  to  all. 

My  loving  brethren  think  it  strange 
That  I  should  leave  my  dearest  friends; 
My  sisters  wonder  where  I  am, 
That  I  do  not  return  to  them. 
My  parents'  house  I  bid  adieu, 
And  on  my  journey  I  pursue, 
To  distant  climes  I  now  repair 
To  call  poor  sinners  far  and  near. 

Through  storms  of  wind  and  rain  and  snow 
Both  day  and  night  I  have  to  go 
To  attend  the  appointments  I  have  made, 
Or  find  some  place  to  lay  my  head. 
Sometimes  in  open  houses  sleep 
Or  in  some  little  place  I  creep, 
I  cannot  sleep  for  want  of  clothes, 
Smothered  in  smoke  and  almost  froze. 


AMERICAN   BALLADS   AND   SONGS     217 

I  ofttimes  with  false  brethren  meet 
Whose  heart  is  full  of  vain  deceit. 
They  seem  quite  pleasant  at  the  first, 
But  of  all  friends  they  are  the  worst. 
The  roaring  tempest  beat  with  force, 
And  ofttimes  drives  me  from  my  course. 
But  he  who  hears  the  sparrows'  care 
Protects  and  drives  away  my  fear. 

Sometimes  with  hunger  I  grow  faint, 
But  travel  on  till  almost  spent, 
Without  a  friend  and  helper  nigh 
But  he  who  hears  the  ravens'  cry. 
When  lo,  I  hear  a  glorious  voice, 
Saying,  " Arise,  in  me  rejoice! 
Go  to  the  earth's  remotest  bounds, 
I'll  be  thy  friend  while  foes  surround." 

And  when  my  work  is  done  below, 

I  hope  to  glory  I  shall  go; 

I'll  take  my  lofty  distant  flight 

To  dwell  with  saints  in  endless  light, 

With  all  the  happy  pilgrims  there, 

And  in  God's  kingdom  have  a  share. 

We'll  shout  and  sing,  our  suffering  o'er, 

Where  Christian  friends  will  part  no  more. 


218     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

106 
THE  SPANISH   CABINEER 

The  Spanish  cabineer  stood  under  a  tree 
And  on  his  gautar  played  a  tone,  dear, 

The  music  so  sweet  I  often  repeat, 

Remember  what  I  say  and  be  true,  dear. 

Say  darling,  say,  when  I  am  far  away, 
Sometime  you  may  think  of  me,  dear. 

Bright  sunny  days,  will  soon  pass  away, 
Remember  what  I  say  and  be  true, 
dear. 

Off  to  the  war,  to  the  war  I  must  go, 
To  fight  for  my  country  and  you,  dear, 

And  if  I  should  fall,  in  vain  I  would  call, 
For  blessings  on  you  and  my  country. 

When  the  war  is  over,  to  you  I'll  return, 
Back  to  my  country  and  you,  dear; 

But  if  I  am  slain  you  might  seek  me  in  vain, 
On  the  battlefield  you  will  find  me. 

107 
THE  TWO  DRUMMERS 

Two  drummers  sat  at  dinner 
In  a  grand  hotel  one  day, 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     219 

While  dining  they  were  chatting 

In  a  jolly  sort  of  way; 
And  when  a  pretty  waitress 

Brought  them  a  tray  of  food, 
They  accosted  her 

In  a  manner  rather  rude. 
At  first  she  did  not  notice  them 

Or  make  the  least  reply, 
Till  one  remark  was  passed 

That  brought  tears  to  her  eye. 
Then,  facing  her  tormentors, 

Cheeks  now  burning  red, 
She  looked  a  perfect  picture 

As  appealingly  she  said : 

*'My  mother  was  a  lady, 

As  yours,  no  doubt  you'll  allow, 
And  you  may  have  a  sister 

Who  needs  protection  now. 
I  came  to  this  great  city 

To  find  a  brother  dear, 
You'd  not  dare  insult  me,  sir, 

If  Jack  were  only  here." 

'Tis  true  one  touch  of  nature 
Makes  the  whole  world  akin, 

And  every  word  she  uttered 

Seemed  to  pierce  their  hearts  within. 

She  left  them  stunned  and  silent 
Till  just  one  cry  of  shame — 


220     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

" Forgive  me,  Miss,  I  meant  no  harm: 

Pray  tell  me,  what's  your  name." 
She  told  him  and  he  cried  again, 

"I  know  your  brother,  too, 
We've  been  friends  for  many  years, 

And  he  often  speaks  of  you. 
He'll  be  so  glad  to  see  you, 

And  if  you'll  only  wed, 
I'll  take  you  to  him  as  my  wife 

For  I  love  you  since  you  said : 

"My  mother  is  a  lady, 

As  yours,  no  doubt  you'll  allows 
And  you  may  have  a  sister 

Who  needs  protection  now. 
I  came  to  this  great  city 

To  find  a  brother  dear, 
You'd  not  dare  insult  me,  sir, 

If  Jack  were  only  here." 


DIALOGUE,  NURSERY, 
AND  GAME  SONGS 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND,  SONGS     223 

108 
THE  QUAKER'S  COURTSHIP 

" Madam,  I  have  come  a-courting,  hi,  ho,  hum! 
I'm  for  business,  not  for  sporting,  hi,  ho  hum!" 

"That  you  go  home  is  my  desire,  rol  dol  dil  a  day. 
Unless  you  stay  and  court  the  fire,  rol  dol  dil  a  day/' 

"  I've  a  ring  that's  worth  a  shilling,  hi  ho  hum. 
Thou  mayst  wear  it  if  thou'rt  willing,  hi  ho  hum!" 

"01  don't  want  your  ring  or  money,  rol  dol  dil  a  day. 
I  want  a  man  that'll  call  me  honey,  rol  dol  dil  a  day." 

"I've  a  kitchen  full  of  servants,  hi  ho  hum! 
Thou  mayst  be  a  mistress  o'er  them,  hi  ho  hum." 

'**"* 

"Indeed  I'll  not  be  scolded  for  you,  rol  dol  dil  a  day. 
Indeed  I  think  myself  above  you,  rol  dol  dil  a  day." 

"I've  a  stable  full  of  horses,  hi  ho  hum, 

Thou  mayst  ride  them  at  my  bidding,  hi  ho  hum." 

"Indeed  I'll  not  be  jockey  for  you,  rol  dol  dil  a  day. 
I  think  I'm  better  off  without  you,  rol  dol  dil  a  day." 

"Must  I  give  up  my  religion?  O  dear  me! 
Must  I  join  the  Presbyterians?  0  dear  me!" 


224     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"O  you  go  home  and  tell  your  daddy,  rol  dol  dil  a  day, 
That  you  couldn't  get  me  ready,  rol  dol  dil  a  day!" 

"O  you  go  home  and  tell  your  mother,  rol  dol  dil  a  day, 
That  you're  a  fool  and  lots  of  bother,  rol  dol  dil  a  day." 

"Must  I  leave  without  one  token?  O  dear  me! 
Must  I  die  with  my  heart  broken?  O  dear  me." 

"Cheer  up,  cheer  up,  my  loving  brother,  hi  ho  hum, 
If  you  can't  catch  me  just  catch  another,  hi  ho  hum!" 

109 

DUTCHMAN,  DUTCHMAN,  WON'T  YOU 
MARRY  ME? 

"Dutchman,  Dutchman,  won't  you  marry  me?" 

"No,  no,  no,  not  I. 
How  can  I  marry  such  a  pretty  little  girl 

When  I  have  no  shoes  to  put  on?" 

Away  to  the  shoeshop  she  did  vent 

As  fast  as  she  could  go, 
Bought  him  some  shoes  of  the  very  best  kind. 

"Now,  Dutchman,  put  them  on! 

"Dutchman,  Dutchman,  won't  you  marry  me?" 

"No,  no,  no,  not  I. 
How  can  I  marry  such  a  pretty  little  girl 

When  I  have  no  coat  to  put  on?" 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     225 

Away  to  the  tailor's  shop  she  did  vent 

As  fast  as  she  could  go, 
Bought  him  a  coat  of  the  very  best  cut. 

"Now  Dutchman,  draw  him  on! 

"Dutchman,  Dutchman,  won't  you  marry  me?" 

"No,  no,  no,  not  I. 
How  can  I  marry  such  a  pretty  little  girl 

When  I  have  no  hat  to  put  on?" 

Away  to  the  hatter's  shop  she  did  vent 

As  fast  as  she  could  go, 
Bought  him  a  hat  of  the  very  best  style 

"Now  Dutchman,  put  him  on! 

"Dutchman,  Dutchman,  won't  you  marry  me?" 

"No,  no,  no,  not  I. 
How  can  I  marry  such  a  pretty  little  girl 

When  I  have  one  wife  to  home?" 

110 
WHAT  WILL  YOU  GIVE  ME  IF  I  GET  UP? 

"What  will  you  give  me  if  I  get  up,, 

If  I  get  up,  if  I  get  up? 
What  will  you  give  me  if  I  get  up. 

If  I  get  up  today?" 

"A  slice  of  bread  and  a  cup  of  tea, 
A  cup,  a  cup,  a  cup  of  tea, 


226     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

A  slice  of  bread  and  a  cup  of  tea, 
If  you  get  up  today." 

"No,  mother,  I  won't  get  up, 
I  won't,  I  won't,  I  won't  get  up, 

No,  mother,  I  won't  get  up, 
I  won't  get  up  today." 

"What  will  you  give  me  if  I  get  up, 

If  I  get  up,  if  I  get  up? 
What  will  you  give  me  if  I  get  up, 

If  I  get  up  today?" 

"A  nice  young  man  with  rosy  cheeks, 
With  rosy  cheeks,  with  rosy  cheeks, 
A  nice  young  man  with  rosy  cheeks, 
If  you'll  get  up  today." 

"Yes,  mother,  I  will  get  up, 

I  will  get  up,  I  will  get  up, 
Yes,  mother,  I  will  get  up, 

I  will  get  up  today." 

Ill 
PAPER  OF  PINS 

"I'll  give  thee  a  paper  of  pins 
If  that's  the  way  that  love  begins, 
If  you'll  but  marry,  if  you'll  but  marry,  if  you'll  but 
marry  me." 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     227 

"I'll  not  accept  the  paper  of  pins, 
If  that's  the  way  that  love  begins, 
And  I'll  not  marry,  I'll  not  marry.  I'll  not  marry  you." 

"I'll  give  thee  a  little  lap  dog, 
That'll  go  with  you  when  you  go  abroad, 
If  you'll  but  marry,  if  you'll  but  marry,  if  you'll  but 
marry  me." 

"I'll  not  accept  the  little  lap  dog, 
To  go  with  me  when  I  go  abroad, 
And  111  not  marry,  I'll  not  marry,  I'll  not  marry  you." 

"I'll  give  to  thee  a  coach  and  four, 
With  every  horse  as  white  as  snow, 
If  you'll  but  marry,  if  you'll  but  marry,  if  you'll  but 
marry  me." 

"  I'll  not  accept  a  coach  and  four, 

With  every  horse  as  white  as  snow, 

And  I'll  not  marry,  I'll  not  marry,  I'll  not  marry  you." 

I'll  give  to  thee  a  coach  and  six, 
With  every  horse  as  black  as  pitch, 
If  you'll  but  marry,  if  you'll  but  marry,  if  you'll  but 
marry  me." 


"I'll  not  accept  the  coach  and  six, 

With  every  horse  as  black  as  pitch, 

And  I'll  not  marry,  I'll  not  marry,  I'll  not  marry 


you. 


" 


228     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"I'll  give  to  thee  the  key  of  my  heart, 
That  we  may  lock  and  never  part, 
If  you'll  but  marry,  if  you'll  but  marry,  if  you'll  but 
marry  me." 

"I'll  not  accept  the  key  of  thy  heart, 

That  we  may  lock  and  never  part, 

And  I'll  not  marry,  I'll  not  marry,  I'll  not  marry  you." 

"  I'll  give  to  thee  a  chest  of  gold, 
And  all  the  money  you  can  control, 
If  you'll  but  marry,  if  you'll  but  marry,  if  you'll  but 
marry  me." 

"I  will  accept  a  chest  of  gold, 

And  all  the  money  I  can  control, 

And  I  will  marry,  I  will  marry,  I  will  marry  you." 

"Ha,  ha!  Ha,  ha!  money  is  all 

Woman's  love  is  nothing  at  all, 

And  I'll  not  marry,  I'll  not  marry,  I'll  not  marry  you." 

112 
(A)    THE  MILKMAID 

"Where  are  you  going,  my  pretty  maid, 

My  pretty  maid,  my  pretty  maid, 
Where  are  you  going,  my  pretty  maid?" 
"I'm  going  a-milking,  sir,  I  say, 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     229 

Sir,  I  say,  sir,  I  say, 
I'm  going  a-milking,  sir,  1  say." 

"May  I  go  with  you,  my  pretty  maid, 

My  pretty  maid,  my  pretty  maid, 
May  I  go  with  you,  my  pretty  maid?" 
"You  may  if  you  wish  to,  sir,  I  say, 

Sir,  I  say,  sir,  I  say, 
You  may  if  you  wish  to,  sir,  I  say." 

"What  is  your  father,  my  pretty  maid, 

My  pretty  maid,  my  pretty  maid, 
What  is  your  father,  my  pretty  maid?" 
"My  father's  a  farmer,  sir,  I  say, 

Sir,  I  say,  sir,  I  say, 
My  father's  a  farmer,  sir,  I  say." 

"What  is  your  fortune,  my  pretty  maid, 

My  pretty  maid,  my  pretty  maid, 
What  is  your  fortune,  my  pretty  maid?" 
"My  face  is  my  fortune,  sir,  I  say, 

Sir,  I  say,  sir,  I  say, 
My  face  is  my  fortune,  sir,  I  say." 

"Then  I  won't  have  you,  my  pretty  maid, 

My  pretty  maid,  my  pretty  maid, 
Then  I  won't  have  you,  my  pretty  maid." 
"Nobody  asked  you,  sir,  I  say, 

Sir,  I  say,  sir,  I  say, 
Nobody  asked  you,  sir,  I  say." 


230     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 
(B)     THE  PRETTY  MILKMAID 

"O  where  are  you  going  to,  my  pretty  maid, 
O  where  are  you  going  to,  my  pretty  maid?" 
"I'm  going  a-milking,  sir,"  she  said,  "sir,"  she  said, 
"I'm  going  a-milking,  sir,"  she  said. 

"0  may  I  go  with  you,  my  pretty  maid, 

O  may  I  go  with  you,  my  pretty  maid?" 

"O  yes,  if  you  like,  kind  sir,"  she  said,  "sir,"  she  said, 

"0  yes,  if  you  like,  kind  sir,"  she  said. 

"0  what  is  your  father,  my  pretty  maid, 

O  what  is  your  father,  my  pretty  maid?" 

"My  father's  a  farmer,  sir,"  she  said,  "sir,"  she  said, 

"My  father's  a  farmer,  sir,"  she  said. 

"0  what  is  your  fortune,  my  pretty  maid, 

0  what  is  your  fortune,  my  pretty  maid?" 

"My  face  is  my  fortune,  sir,"  she  said,  "sir,"  she  said, 
"My  face  is  my  fortune,  sir,"  she  said. 

"Then  I  cannot  marry  you,  my  pretty  maid, 

1  cannot  marry  you,  my  pretty  maid," 

"O  nobody  axed  you,  sir,"  she  said,  "sir,"  she  said, 
"0  nobody  axed  you,  sir,"  she  said. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     231 

113 
BILLY  BOY 

"O  where  have  you  been  Billy  Boy,  Billy  Boy, 
O  where  have  you  been,  charming  Billy?" 

"I  have  been  for  a  wife,  she's  the  treasure  of  my  life, 
She's  a  young  thing  but  can't  leave  her  mammie." 

"Can  she  make  a  cherry  pie,  Billy  Boy,  Billy  Boy, 
Can  she  make  a  cherry  pie,  charming  Billy?" 

"She  can  make  a  cherry  pie  quick  as  cat  can  wink  her 

eye, 
She's  a  young  thing  but  can't  leave  her  mammie." 

"Can  she  make  a  feather  bed,  Billy  Boy,  Billy  Boy, 
Can  she  make  a  feather  bed,  charming  Billy?" 

"She  can  make  it  very  neat  from  the  head  unto  the 

feet, 
She's  a  young  thing  but  can't  leave  her  mammie." 

"Can  she  make  a  loaf  of  bread,  Billy  Boy,  Billy  Boy 
Can  she  make  a  loaf  of  bread,  charming  Billy?" 

"She  can  make  a  loaf  of  bread  with  a  night  cap  on 

her  head, 
She's  a  young  thing  but  can't  leave  her  mammie." 

"Can  she  milk  a  mulie  cow,  Billy  Boy,  Billy  Boy, 
Can  she  milk  a  mulie  cow,  charming  Billy? " 


232      AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"She  can  milk  a  mulie  cow  if  her  mammie  shows  her 

how. 
She's  a  young  thing  but  can't  leave  her  mammie." 

114 
POOR  ROBIN 

Poor  Robin  was  dead  and  lay  in  his  grave, 

Lay  in  his  grave,  lay  in  his  grave, 
Poor  Robin  was  dead  and  lay  in  his  grave, 

0000. 

They  planted  an  apple  tree  over  his  head, 

Over  his  head,  over  his  head, 
They  planted  an  apple  tree  over  his  head, 

0000. 

When  the  apples  were  ripe  and  ready  to  fall, 

Ready  to  fall,  ready  to  fall, 
When  the  apples  were  ripe  and  ready  to  fall, 

0000. 

An  old  woman  came  and  gathered  them  up, 
Gathered  them  up,  gathered  them  up, 

An  old  woman  came  and  gathered  them  up, 
0000. 

Poor  Robin  jumped  up  and  gave  her  a  thump, 
Gave  her  a  thump,  gave  her  a  thump. 


AMERICAN   BALLADS  AND   SONGS     233 

Poor  Robin  jumped  up  and  gave  her  a  thump. 
OOOO. 

It  made  the  old  woman  go  flippety  flop, 

Flippety  flop,  flippety  flop, 
It  made  the  old  woman  go  flippety  flop, 

OOOO. 

And  as  she  ran  off  her  apron  string  broke, 

Her  apron  string  broke,  her  apron  string  broke, 

And  as  she  ran  off  her  apron  string  broke. 
OOOO. 

If  you  want  any  more  just  sing  it  yourself, 

Sing  it  yourself,  sing  it  yourself; 
If  you  want  any  more  just  sing  it  yourself, 

OOOO. 

115 
BABES   IN  THE  WOODS 

My  dear  you  must  know  that  a  long  time  ago 

There  was  two  little  children  whose  names  I  don't 

know, 

Who  were  taken  away  on  a  bright  autumn  day, 
And  lost  in  the  woods  I  have  heard  people  say. 

Now  when  it  was  night  very  sad  were  their  plight, 
The  stars  did  not  shine  and  the  moon  hid  her  light, 


234     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Then  they  sobbed  and  they  sighed  and  sadly  they  cried, 
And  the  poor  little  things  at  last  lay  down  and  died. 

Two  robins  so  red  when  they  saw  them  lie  dead 
Brought  beech  and  oak  leaves  and  over  them  spread; 
And  all  day  long  the  branches  among 
They  sang  to  them  softly  and  this  was  their  song: 

Poor  little  babes  in  the  woods, 
Poor  little  babes  in  the  woods, 
O  who  will  come  and  find, 
Poor  little  babes  in  the  woods! 

116 
IN  GOOD  OLD  COLONY  TIMES 

In  good  old  colony  times,  where  we  lived  under  the 
King, 

Three  roguish  chaps  fell  into  mishaps 
Because  they  could  not  sing. 

Three  roguish  chaps  fell  into  mishaps 
Because  they  could  not  sing. 

The  first  he  was  a  miller,  and  the  second  he  was  a  weaver, 

And  the  third  he  was  a  little  tailor, 
Three  roguish  chaps  together, 

And  the  third  he  was  a  little  tailor, 
Three  roguish  chaps  together. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     235 

The  miller  he  stole  corn,  and  the  weaver  he  stole  yarn, 

And  the  little  tailor  stole  broadcloth 
For  to  keep  these  three  rogues  warm. 

And  the  little  tailor  stole  broadcloth 
For  to  keep  these  three  rogues  warm. 

Now  the  miller  got  drowned  in  his  dam,  and  the  weaver 
got  hung  in  his  yarn, 

And  the  devil  clapt  his  claws  on  the  little  tailor 
With  the  broadcloth  under  his  arm, 

And  the  devil  clapt  his  claws  on  the  little  tailor, 
With  the  broadcloth  under  his  arm. : 

117 
LET'S  GO  TO  THE  WOODS 

"Let's  go  to  the  woods,"  says  Richard  to  Robin, 
"Let's  go  to  the  woods,"  says  Robin  to  Bobin, 
"Let's  go  to  the  woods,"  says  Johnny  alone, 
"Let's  go  to  the  woods,"  says  every  one. 

"What  to  do  there?"  says  Richard  to  Robin, 
"What  to  do  there?"  says  Robin  to  Bobin, 
"What  to  do  there?"  says  Johnny  alone, 
"What  to  do  there?"  says  everyone. 

"Shoot  at  my  wren,"  says  Richard  to  Robin, 
"Shoot  at  my  wren,"  says  Robin  to  Bobin, 
"Shoot  at  my  wren,"  says  Johnny  alone, 
"Shoot  at  my  wren,"  says  every  one. 


236     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

"What  if  she's  dead?"  says  Richard  to  Robin, 
"What  if  she's  dead?"  says  Robin  to  Bobin, 
"What  if  she's  dead?"  says  Johnny  alone, 
"What  if  she's  dead?"  says  every  one. 

"How  would  you  get  her  home?"  says  Richard  to 

Robin, 

"How  would  you  get  her  home?"  says  Robin  to  Bobin, 
"How  would  you  get  her  home?"  says  Johnny  alone, 
"How  would  you  get  her  home?"  says  every  one. 

"A  cart  and  six  horses,"  says  Richard  to  Robin, 
"A  cart  and  six  horses,"  says  Robin  to  Bobin, 
"A  cart  and  six  horses,"  says  Johnny  alone, 
"A  cart  and  six  horses,"  says  every  one. 

118 
I  BOUGHT  ME  A  WIFE 

I  bought  me  a  wife  the  tenth  of  June, 
Nickety  nackety,  now,  now,  now, 

I  brought  her  home  by  the  light  of  the  moon. 
High,  willy,  wally,  and  Jenny  bang, 
Doodle,  sandy  go  restego,  now,  now,  now. 

I  bought  two  cows,  they  both  were  good, 
I  told  her  to  milk  whichever  she  would. 

For  want  of  a  churn  she  used  the  old  man's  boot, 
For  want  of  a  dasher  she  used  his  foot. 


AMERICAN  BALLADS   AND  SONGS     237 

She  made  some  cheese  and  hung  it  on  a  pin. 
The  grease  ran  out  and  the  dirt  sucked  in. 

The  old  book  lies  on  the  shelf. 

If  you  want  any  more  you  can  sing  it  yourself. 

119 
WE'LL  ALL  GO  DOWN  TO  ROWSER/S 

We'll  all  go  down  to  Rowser's, 

We'll  all  go  down  to  Rowser's, 

We'll  all  go  down  to  Rowser's, 
For  there  they  keep  the  beer, 
For  there  they  keep  the  beer, 
For  there  they  keep  the  beer, 

We'll  all  go  down  to  Rowser's 
For  there  they  keep  the  beer. 

My  father  and  mother  were  Irish, 
My  father  and  mother  were  Irish, 
My  father  and  mother  were  Irish, 

And  I  was  Irish  too, 

And  I  was  Irish  too, 

And  I  was  Irish  too. 
My  father  and  mother  were  Irish 

And  I  was  Irish  too. 

They  kept  the  pig  in  the  parlor, 
They  kept  the  pig  in  the  parlor, 
They  kept  the  pig  in  the  parlor, 


238     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

For  that  was  Irish  too, 
For  that  was  Irish  too, 
For  that  was  Irish  too. 
They  kept  the  pig  in  the  parlor, 
For  that  was  Irish  too. 

120 
SWEET  FIELDS  OF  VIOLO 

How  happy  I  was  on  my  father's  farm, 

Sweet  fields  of  Violo, 
Tending  to  my  father's  horses 
That  I  fed  in  the  barns  of  Violo. 

And  a  gee  ho  here  and  a  gee  ho  there, 

Here  a  gee  and  there  a  gee,  and 
O  pretty  maids,  won't  you  come  and  go  with  me 

To  the  sweet  fields  of  Violo! 

How  happy  I  was  on  my  father's  farm, 

Sweet  fields  of  Violo, 
Tending  to  my  father's  cows 
That  I  milked  in  the  yards  of  Violo. 

And  a  suke,  suke  here,  and  a  suke,  suke  there, 

Here  a  suke  and  there  a  suke,  and 

A  gee  ho  here  and  a  gee  ho  there, 

Here  a  gee  and  there  a  gee,  and 
O  pretty  maids,  won't  you  come  and  go  with  me 

To  the  sweet  fields  of  Violo! 

How  happy  I  was  on  my  father's  farm, 
Sweet  fields  of  Violo, 


AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS     239 

Tending  to  my  father's  pigs 

That  I  fattened  in  the  pens  of  Violo. 

And  a  boo  hoo  here  and  a  boo  hoo  there, 

Here  a  boo  and  there  a  boo,  and 

A  suke  suke  here  and  a  suke  suke  there, 

Here  a  suke  and  there  a  suke,  and 

A  gee  ho  here  and  a  gee  ho  there, 

Here  a  gee  and  there  a  gee,  and 
0  pretty  maids,  won't  you  come  and  go  with  me 

To  the  sweet  fields  of  Violo ! 

How  happy  I  was  on  my  father's  farm, 

Sweet  fields  of  Violo, 
Tending  to  my  father's  sheep 
That  ran  in  the  vales  of  Violo. 

And  a  bleat  bleat  here,  and  a  bleat  bleat  there, 

Here  a  bleat  and  there  a  bleat,  and 

A  boo  hoo  here  and  a  boo  hoo  there, 

Here  a  boo  and  there  a  boo,  and 

A  suke  suke  here  and  a  suke  suke  there, 

Here  a  suke  and  there  a  suke,  and 

A  gee  ho  here  and  a  gee  ho  there, 

Here  a  gee  and  there  a  gee,  and 
O  pretty  maids,  won't  you  come  and  go  with  me 

To  the  sweet  fields  of  Violo! 

How  happy  I  was  on  my  father's  farm, 

Sweet  fields  of  Violo, 
Tending  to  my  father's  geese 
That  swam  in  the  ponds  of  Violo. 

With  a  shoo  shoo  here  and  a  shoo  shoo  there, 


240     AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Here  a  shoo  and  there  a  shoo,  and 
A  bleat  bleat  here  and  a  bleat  bleat  there, 
Here  a  bleat  and  there  a  bleat,  and 
A  boo  hoo  here  and  a  boo  hoo  there, 
Here  a  boo  and  there  a  boo,  and 
A  suke  suke  here  and  a  suke  suke  there, 
Here  a  suke  and  there  a  suke,  and 
A  gee  ho  here  and  a  gee  ho  there, 
Here  a  gee  and  there  a  gee,  and 
O  pretty  maids,  won't  you  come  and  go  with  me 
To  the  sweet  fields  of  Violo! 

How  happy  I  was  on  my  father's  farm, 
Sweet  fields  of  Violo. 

Tending  to  my  father's  chickens 

That  laid  in  the  nests  of  Violo. 

A  cackle  cackle  here  and  a  cackle  cackle  there, 

Here  a  cackle,  there  a  cackle,  and 

A  shoo  shoo  here  and  a  shoo  shoo  there, 

Here  a  shoo  and  there  a  shoo,  and 

A  bleat  bleat  here  and  a  bleat  bleat  there, 

Here  a  bleat  and  there  a  bleat,  and 

A  boo  hoo  here  and  a  boo  hoo  there, 

Here  a  boo  and  there  a  boo,  and 

A  suke  suke  here  and  a  suke  suke  there, 

Here  a  suke  and  there  a  suke,  and 

A  gee  ho  here  and  a  gee  ho  there, 

Here  a  gee  and  there  a  gee,  and 

O  pretty  maids,  won't  you  come  and  go  with  me 
To  the  sweet  fields  of  Violo ! 


NOTES 


NOTES 

1.  (A)  JOHNNY  RANDALL.     Compare  Lord  Randal,  Child,  English 
and  Scottish  Popular  Ballads,  No.  12.     Text  recovered  by  Professor 
H.  C.  House  of  the  University  of  Maryland  from  a  railroad  camp 
at  Geary,  Colorado,  in  1901.     See  Modem  Language  Notes,  vol.  17, 
p.  14,  1902. 

(B)  JIMMY  RANDOLPH.  Sung  by  Mrs.  Dora  Shelton,  Allenstand, 
North  Carolina,  in  1916.  See  Campbell  and  Sharp,  English  Folk 
Songs  from  the  Southern  Appalachians,  p.  22. 

2.  (A)  LORD  LOVEL.     Text  obtained  from  S.  J.  Mason  of  Lincoln, 
Nebraska,  in  1906,  who  "learned  it  at  Aledo,  Illinois,  about  1863." 
Child,  No.  75. 

(B)  LORD  LOVER.  Text  obtained  from  Mrs.  Jeanetta  Gear  of 
Junction,  Wyoming,  in  1914. 

3.  (A)  BARBERY  ALLEN.     Text  as  sung  and  transcribed  by  Miss 
Stella  Cotton  of  Miller  County,  Missouri.     See  H.  M.  Belden,  "Old 
Country  Songs  in  Missouri,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol. 
19,  p.  287.     1906.     Child,  No.  84. 

(B)  BARBARA  ALLEN.  Text  from  North  Carolina.  Secured 
by  Miss  Mary  Crawford  of  the  State  Normal  School  at  Kearney, 
Nebraska,  in  1913. 

4.  (A)  THE  Two  SISTERS.     Sung  by  Mrs.  Jane  Gentry  of  Hot 
Springs,  North  Carolina,  in  1916.     See  Campbell  and  Sharp,  English 
Folk  Songs  from  the  Southern  Appalachians   (1917),  p.   16.     Child, 
No.  10.     This  ballad  is  known  to  Miss  Marjorie  Buicham  of  Lincoln, 
Nebraska,  as  a  eucalele  song. 

(B)  THE  OLD  MAN  IN  THE  NORTH  COUNTRY.  Text  brought  to 
Clinton  County,  Missouri,  from  Kentucky.  See  H.  M.  Belden,  "Old 
Country  Ballads  in  Missouri,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol. 
19,  p.  233.  1906. 

5.  (A)  THE   JEWISH  LADY.     Compare  Sir  Hugh,   or   The  Jew's 
Daughter  Child,  No.  155.     Secured  by  Mrs.  Pearl  H.  Bartholomew 
from  Mrs.  Flo  Keller,  both  of  Warren,  Indiana.     See  A.  H.  Tolman, 
"  Some  Songs  Traditional  in  the  United  States,"  Journal  of  American 
Folk-Lore,  vol.  29,  p.  165.     1916. 

(B)  THE  JEW  LADY.  Text  secured  at  the  University  oi  Vir 
ginia  by  C.  Alphonso  Smith.  It  was  learned  at  Montgomery,  Ala 
bama.  See  "Ballads  Surviving  in  the  United  States,"  The  Musical 
Quarterly,  January,  1916,  p.  16.  Title  supplied. 

6.  (A)  THE  WIFE  WRAPT  IN  WETHER'S  SKIN.     Text  secured  by 
H.  M.  Belden  in  1916  from  Mrs.  Eva  Warner  Case  of  Kansas  City, 
"as  known  to  her  in  her  childhood  in  Harrison  County,  Missouri, 
about  1890."     Child,  No.  277. 

243 


244  NOTES 

(B)  DANDOO.  Text  from  Mrs.  Mary  A.  Sexson  of  Hastings, 
Nebraska,  in  1917,  as  sung  by  her  husband,  J.  J.  Sexson. 

7.  (A)  CHILDREN'S  SONG.     Compare   The  Wife  of  Usher's  Well, 
Child,   No.  79.     Text  secured  by  Walter  Morris  Hart  from   Mrs. 
Agnes  McDougall  Henry,  who  had  it  from  western  North  Carolina. 
See  G.  L.   Kittredge,   "Ballads  and  Songs,"  Journal  of  American 
Folk-Lore,  vol.  30,  p.  306.     1917. 

(B)  THREE  LITTLE  BABES.  Secured  by  L.  A.  Quivey  when  a 
student  at  the  University  of  Nebraska,  as  known  to  his  family  in 
Burt  County,  Nebraska,  in  1914. 

8.  THE  CRUEL  BROTHER.     Text  from  Boston  Massachusetts.     See 
Phillips  Barry,  "The  Ballad  of  the  Cruel  Brother,"  Journal  of  Amer 
ican  Folk-Lore,  vol.  28,  p.  300.     1915.     Child,  No.  11. 

9.  EDWARD.     Sung  by  Mrs.  Jane  Gentry  at  Hot  Springs,  North 
Carolina,  in  1916.     Campbell  and  Sharp,  English  Folk  Songs  from  the 
Southern  Appalachians,  p.  26. 

10.  THE  LOWLANDS  Low.     Compare   The  Sweet   Trinity,  Child, 
No.  286.     Sung  by  James  R.  Bairon  of  Lincoln,  Nebraska,  in  1919. 
Mr.  Barron  is  from  the  Shetland  Islands.    Secured  by  L.  C.  Wimberly. 

11.  THREE  SAILOR  BOYS.     Compare  The  Mermaid,  Child,  No.  289. 
From  Mrs.  Jeanetta  Gear,  Junction,  Wyoming,  1914. 

12.  LORD   THOMAS.     Compare   Lord   Thomas    and   Fair    Annet, 
Child,  No.  73.     Secured  by  Miss  Florence  Grimm  of  Lincoln,  Ne 
braska,  in  1913,  from  her  grandfather,  who  brought  it  from  Maryland. 

13.  THE  HANGMAN'S  SONG.     Compare  The  Maid  Freed  from  the 
Gallows,  Child,   No.   95.     Text  from  Lonesome   Tunes  by  Loraine 
Wyman  and  Howard  Brockway  (1916),  p.  44.     From  Knott  County, 
Kentucky. 

14.  LORD   BAYHAM.     Compare    Young   Beichan,    Child,    No.    53. 
Text  from  a  manuscript  book  of  songs,  made  from  oral  transcription 
in  Indiana  before  the  Civil  War,  in  the  possession  of  Edna  Fulton 
Waterman  of  Lincoln,  Nebraska.     The  American  variants  of  this 
ballad  have  many  titles,  "Young  Bakeman,"   "Lord  Batesman," 
"Lord  Bateman,"  "Lord  Bacon,"  "Lord  Benham,"  "The  Turkish 
Lady,"  etc.     This  ballad  was  a  favorite  with  Dickens.     Much  of  its 
currency  is  due  to  the  fact  that  it  was  utilized  with  effect  in  the  once 
popular  play  of  Rosedale.     See  G.  L.  Kittredge  in  Harvard  Library 
Notes,  January,  1921,  p.  62. 

15.  LITTLE  MATTHY  GROVES.     Compare  Little  Musgrave  and  Lady 
Barnard,  Child,  No.  81.     Sung  by  Mrs.  Jane  Gentry  of  Hot  Springs, 
North  Carolina,  in  1916.     Campbell  and  Sharp,  English  Folk  Songs 
from  the  Southern  Appalachians,  p.  79.     This  ballad  has  been  found 
in  Nova  Scotia  by  W.  Roy  Mackenzie,  by  H.  G.  Shearin  in  the  Cum 
berland  Mountains,  and  by  C.  Alphonso  Smith  ("Little  Mosie  Grove 
and  Lord  Burnett's  Wife,"  etc.)  in  Virginia. 


NOTES  245 

16.  SWEET  WILLIAM.     Compare  Fair  Margaret  and  Sweet  William, 
Child,  No.  74.     Text  from  Josephine  McGill's  Folk  Songs  of  the 
Kentucky  Mountains  (1917),  p.  69. 

17.  THE   HOUSE   CARPENTER.     Compare   James   Harris,   or    The 
Dcemon  Lover,  Child,  No.  243.     Text  obtained  in  1908  from  S.  J. 
Mason  of  Lincoln,  Nebraska,  who  learned  it  as  a  boy  at  Aledo, 
Illinois. 

18.  Two  LITTLE  BOYS.     Compare  The  Two  Brothers,  Child,  No. 
49.     Secured  in  1909  by  her  daughter  from  Mrs.  Eliza  Shelman  of 
Hansen's  Ferry,  Washington,  who  learned  it  in  Nodaway  County, 
Missouri. 

19.  THE  CHERRY  TREE  CAROL.     Text  from  Josephine  McGill'a 
Folk  Songs  of  the  Kentucky  Mountains,  p.  59.     Child,  No.  54. 

20.  THE  FALSE  KNIGHT.     Compare  Child,  No.  3.     Secured   by 
H.  M.  Belden  in  1916  from  Miss  J.  D.  Johns  of  St.  Charles,  Missouri. 
She  learned  it  from  her  uncle,  Mr.  Douglas  Voss  Martin,  who  learned 
it  when  a  boy  in  Virginia  from  his  grandmother,  a  Scotchwoman" 
See  Kittredge,  "Ballads  and  Songs,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore, 
vol.  30,  p.  286.     1917. 

21.  (A)  THE  DROWSY  SLEEPER.     Text  from  a  manuscript  book 
of  songs  from  oral  transcription,  the  property  of  Edna  Fulton  Water 
man  of  Lincoln,  Nebraska.     For  this  piece,  see  H.  M.  Belden,  Archiv 
fiir  das  Studium  der  neueren  Sprachen,  vol.  119,  pp.  430-431. 

(B)  WILLIE  AND  MARY.  Text  known  to  Mrs.  I.  E.  Diehl  of 
Robinson,  Utah,  1914. 

22.  (A)  THE  BAMBOO  BRIARS.     Text  from  H.  M.  Belden,  who  had 
it  from  Miss  Frances  Barbour  of  Washington  University,  who  had  it 
from  the  singing  of   Minnie  Doyle  of  Arlington,   Phelps  County, 
Missouri,  in  1917.     For  the  history  of  this  song,  and  variant  texts,  see 
H.  M.  Belden,  "Boccaccio,  Hans  Sachs,  and  The  Bramble  Briar," 
Publications  of  the  Modern  Language  Association  of  America,  vol.  33, 
p.  327.     1918. 

(B)  THE  APPRENTICE  BOY.  Text  of  H.  G.  Shearin.  See 
"British  Ballads  in  the  Cumberland  Mountains,"  The  Sewanee 
Review,  vol.  19,  p.  321.  July,  1911. 

23.  (A)  THE  BOSTON  BURGLAR.     Text  obtained  by  L.  C.  Wimberly 
from  Mrs.  E.  N.  Hardin,  of  Missouri  Valley,  Iowa,  in  1916.     Com 
pare   The  Sheffield  Apprentice,  Campbell  and  Sharp,   English  Folk 
Songs  from  thv  Southern  Appalachians,  p.  278.     A  text  of  this  song 
from  Michigan  adapts  it,  with  a  minimum  of  changes,  to  fit  a  local 
crime  and  criminal  in  Michigan. 

(B)  CHARLESTON.  Text  obtained  from  Harry  Gear,  Junction, 
Wyoming,  1914. 

24.  (A)  THE    BUTCHER'S   BOY.     Text    obtained  by  Lillian  Gear 
Boswell  at  Hartville,  Wyoming,  1914.     Related  to  The  Brisk  Young 


246  NOTES 

Lover,  Broadwood,  Traditional  Songs  and  Carols  (1908),  p.  92.     See 
also,  Campbell  and  Sharp,  p.  286. 

(B)  THERE  Is  A  TAVERN  IN  THE  TOWN.  From  a  manuscript 
book  of  songs  in  the  possession  of  L.  C.  Wimberly.  1916.  This 
well-known  college  song  is  a  variant  of,  or  is  somehow  related  to, 
The  Brisk  Young  Lover  and  The  Butcher's  Boy. 

25.  THE  DEATH  OF  A  ROMISH  LADY.     From  a  manuscript  book  of 
orally  transcribed  pieces,  the  property  of  Edna  Fulton  Waterman  of 
Lincoln,  Nebraska.     This  piece  has  been  found  also  in  Missouri  and 
in  the  Cumberland  Mountains.     It  is  the  "It  was  a  lady's  daughter 
of  Paris  properly"  mentioned  in  Fletcher's  Knight  of  the  Burning 
Pestle  (1613),  V.  iii.     A  text  from  the  time  of  Charles  II  appears  in 
The  Roxburgh  Ballads,  vol.  I,  p.  43. 

26.  JOHNNY  AND  BETSY.     Text  of  Mrs.  Mary  F.  Lindsay  of  Hebron, 
Nebraska.     1915.     Compare   Firth,   An  American  Garland   (1915), 
p.  69.     A  text  from  California  is  printed  in  The  Journal  of  American 
F  oik-Lore,  vol.  19,  p.  130,  but  the  account  there  given  of  the  origin 
of  the  song  is  doubtful. 

27.  THE  SOLDIER.     Text  from  Mrs.  B.  B.  Wimberly,   1916,  who 
learned  it  in  Louisiana.     Compare  Campbell  and  Sharp,     The  Lady 
and  the  Dragoon,  p.  161.     The  same  story  is  told  in  the  last  part  of 
The  Masterpiece  of  Love  Songs  in  John  Ashton's  A  Century  of  Ballads 
(1887),  p.  164.     Professor  Tolman  has  pointed  out  that  the  story 
somewhat  resembles  that  of  Erlinton,  Child,  No.  8. 

28.  THE   FARMER'S  BOY.     Text   from    Miss    Frances   Francis  of 
Cheyenne,  Wyoming,  who  had  it  from  her  father,  who  described  it 
as  "brought  from  Newcastle,  England,  as  early  as  1870."     Known 
also  in  Missouri. 

29.  THE  RICH  YOUNG  FARMER.     From  Edna  Fulton  Waterman's 
manuscript  book  of  ballads,  in  which  it  is  transcribed  as  "Written 
by  Marcelia  Polk  at  E.  Spencer's  school,  the  23rd  of  February,  1857." 
Compare  H.  G.  Shearin's  William  Hall  from  the  Cumberland  moun 
tains.     For  ballads  current  in  America  on  the  theme  of  the  returned 
lover,  see  H.  M.  Belden,  Archiv  fur  das  Studium  der  neueren  Sprachen 
und  Literaturen,  vol.  120,  p.  62. 

30.  THE  LOVER'S  RETURN.     From  Mrs.  Waterman's  manuscript 
book   of   songs.     Reproduced   literatim.     A   version   of   the   widely 
current  The  Banks  of  Claudy.     See  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore 
vol.  26,  p.  362.     1913. 

31.  THE    PRENTICE    BOY.     From    Mrs.    Waterman's   manuscript 
book  of  ballads  from  Indiana,  in  which  it  bears  the  date  1844.     Repro 
duced  literatim.     Compare  The  Lady  and  the  Prentice,  Baring-Gould, 
Songs  of  the  West  (1913),  p.  219.     For  American  variants  see  The 
Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  26,  p.  363.     1913. 

32.  THE  CONSTANT  FARMER'S  SON.     Text  from  L.  C.  Wimberly  of 


NOTES  247 

Lincoln,  Nebraska,  in  1916.  H.  M.  Belden  prints  a  text  in  The 
Sewanee  Review,  vol.  19,  p.  222,  and  in  the  Publications  of  the  Modern 
Language  Association  of  America,  vol.  33,  p.  367,  1918;  and  W.  R. 
Mackenzie  in  The  Quest  of  the  Ballad. 

33.  MOLLIE  BOND.     Miss  Loraine  Wyman's  text,  printed  by  G.  L. 
Kittredge  in  the  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  30,  p.  359. 
Compare  "Polly  Bam"  in  The  Shooting  of  His  Dear,  Campbell  and 
Sharp,  p.  159.     Known  also  as  "Polly  Vann,"  "Molly  Baun,"  "Polly 
Vaughn,"  etc.     According  to  Professor  Kittredge,  this  piece  is  at 
least  as  old  as  the  eighteenth  century.     Possibly  it  is  much  older. 
The  transformation   of   the  girl  into  a  swan  and  her  appearance  in 
court  in  some  of  the  British  versions  (instead  of  as  a  ghost  in  certain 
American  versions)  point  to  early  origin.     See  At  the  Setting  of  the 
Sun  in  Baring-Gould's  Songs  of  the  West,  p.  129. 

34.  MY    FATHER'S    GRAY    MARE.     Text    obtained    from    Vivian 
Cleaver  Cleveland  of  Lincoln,  Nebraska,  in  1917.     Compare  Baring- 
Gould,  Songs  of  the  West,  p.  105  (1913),  Kidson,  Traditional  Tunes, 
etc. 

35.  MARY  O'  THE  WILD  MOOR.     Text  transcribed  by  Mrs.  Nellie 
B.  Pickup  of  Lincoln,  Nebraska,  in  1914,  from  the  singing  of  her 
mother,  who  learned  it  in  her  childhood  in  New  York.     It  is  included 
in  Helen  K.  Johnson's  Our  Familiar  Songs  (1904),  p.  303.     See  also 
Kidson's  Traditional  Tunes  (1891),  p.  77. 

36.  FATHER  GRUMBLE.     Text  obtained  from  Miss  Jeanne  Allen 
of  Seneca,  Kansas,  in  1914.     Known  also  as  "Old  Grumble,"  "The 
Drummer  and  his  Wife"  (Campbell  and  Sharp,  p.  308),  etc.     The 
song  is  no  recent  one.     See  Kittredge's  annotation,  Journal  of  Amer 
ican  Folk-Lore,  vol.  26,  p.  366,  1913. 

37.  GUY  FAWKES.     Text  known  to  A.  J.  Leach  of  Oakdale,  Ante 
lope  County,  Nebraska,  1914,  who  learned  it  as  a  boy  in  Michigan. 
A  much  better  known  Guy  Fawkes  song  begins,  "O  don't  you  re 
member  the  fifth  of  November. " 

38.  WILLIAM  REILLY'S  COURTSHIP.     From  Edna  Fulton  Water 
man's  manuscript  ballad  book. 

39.  JACK  RILEY.     Obtained  by  Frances  Botkin  and  Zora  Schaupp 
from  Mrs.  Adna  Dobson  of  Lincoln,  Nebraska,  who  learned  it  in 
England. 

40.  THE  BATTLE  OF  POINT  PLEASANT.     Song  included  with  other 
traditional  songs  in  Kate  Aplington's  Pilgrims  of  the  Plains  (1913), 
p.  209.     She  eays  of  its  singers:  "There  are  many  among  them  who 
cannot  read,  and  for  those  who  can  there  are  no  newspapers  or  books. 
The  time  would  hang  heavy  on  their  hands  if  one  did  not  take  it 
upon  himself  to  help  entertain  the  others.     They  are  capital  story 
tellers  and  they  are  all  of  them  singers,  and  they  give  themselves  up 


248  NOTES 

to  the  spell  of  the  music  with  a  whole-hearted  enthusiasm  that  gives 
to  their  rudest  ballads  something  of  charm  and  power." 

41.  JAMES  BIRD.     This  song  of  a  hero  of  the  war  of  1812  was  known 
to  S.  B.  Pound  of  Lincoln,  Nebraska,  who  brought  it  from  Ontario 
County,  New  York.     H.  M.  Belden  has  a  copy  from  Clinton  County, 
Missouri,    written   down   in    1915.     It   was   composed   in    1814    by 
Charles  Miner,  of  Wilkesbarre,  Pennsylvania. 

42.  (A)  O  JOHNNY  DEAR,  WHY  DID  You  Go?     Secured  by  Marie 
Gladys  Hayden  of  Hobson,  Montana,  in  1914  from  E.  B.  Lyon,  who 
reported  the  song  as  he  heard  it  sung  in  a  log  schoolhouse  in   Illinois 
in  the  year  1857.     This  song  dates  from  the  eighteenth  century  and 
grew  out  of  a  local  event.     See  "Elegy  of  a  Young  Man  Bitten  by  a 
Rattlesnake"  in  E.  E.  Kale's  New  England  History  in  Ballads  (1904), 
p.  86.     See  also   The  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.   13,  pp. 
105-112;  vol.  18,  pp.  295-302;  vol.  22,  pp.  366-67;  vol.  28,  p.  169. 
The  original  text  is  in  existence,  and  the  variants  of  this  song,  from 
different  regions  well  exhibit  what  has  happened  to  it  in  more  than 
a  century  of  oral,  transmission  and  migration. 

(B)  [WOODVILLE  MOUND.]     Text  secured  for  H.  M.  Belden  by 
Miss  G.  M.  Hamilton  from  Marie  Walt,  one  of  her  pupils  in  the  West 
Plains,  Missouri,  High  School  in  1909,  who  knew  it  as  sung  to  her  in 
her  childhood  by  her  mother.     Title  supplied. 

(C)  IN  SPRINGFIELD  MOUNTAIN.     Text  sent  to  H.  M.  Belden 
by  Miss  G.  M.  Hamilton,  who  secured  it  from  one  of  her  students  at 
the  Kirksville  Normal  School,  Missouri,  in  1911. 

(D)  SPRINGFIELD     MOUNTAIN.     Text    secured     by     Frances 
Botkin   and   Zora   Schaupp   from   Mrs.   Adna   Dobson  of   Lincoln, 
Nebraska,  in  1920. 

43.  (A)  THE  JEALOUS  LOVER.     From  a  manuscript  book  of  ballads 
in  the  possession  of  L.  C.  Wimberly,  1916.     This  is  one  of  the  most 
widespread  of  American  ballads.     It  is  current  under  many  names,  aa 
"Lorella,"    "Floella,"    "Florilla,"    "Flora   Ella,"    "Poor   Lurella," 
"Poor  Lora,"  "Poor  Loila,"  "Nell,"  etc.     Professor  J.  H.  Cox  has 
pointed  out  that  the  West  Virginia  "Pearl  Bryan"  is  an  adaptation 
of  this  song,  with  a  minimum  of  verbal  changes,  to  fit  the  murder 
of  a  gill  of  that  name  which  occurred  near  Fort  Thomas,  Kentucky, 
in  1896.   The  song  had  an  ephemeral  popularity  after  the  execution 
of  the  murderers. 

(B)  THE  WEEPING  WILLOW.     Obtained  by  Lillian  Gear  Bos- 
well  from  the  singing  of  Albert  Clay  of  Junction,  Wyoming,  in  1914. 

44.  YOUNG  CHARLOTTE.     Text  obtained  by  Marie  Gladys  Hayden 
of  Hobson,    Montana,   from  the  singing  of  a  girl  from  Plainville, 
Kansas,  in  1914.     For  the  history  of  this  song,  which  was  composed 
in  Bensontown,  Vermont,  before  1835  and  grew  out  of  a  local  event, 
see  Phillips  Barry,  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  25,  p.  156, 


NOTES  249 

1912.  Mr.  Barry  believes  that  it  was  carried  over  the  country  as  its 
author  went  to  Ohio  and  later  to  Illinois,  on  his  way  to  join  the  Mor 
mons  in  Utah.  It  is  widely  current. 

45.  (A)  THE  OLD  SHAWNEE.     Text  from  a  manuscript  book  in  the 
possession  of  L.  C.  Wimberly,  1916. 

(B)  ON  THE  BANKS  OF  THE  OLD  PEDEE.     The  same  song,  as 
obtained  from  Lillian  Gear  Boswell  at  Junction,  Wyoming,  1915. 

46.  THE  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WOULDN'T  HOE  CORN.     Text  secured 
from  Bessie  Aten  when  a  student  at  the  University  of  Nebraska  in 
1914.     The  song  is  sometimes  known  as  "Harm  Link."     See  Camp 
bell  and  Sharp,  English  Folk  Songs  of  the    Southern  Appalachians, 
p.  314;  Journal  of  American  Folk  Lore,  vol.  29,  p.  181.     A.  H.  Tol- 
man's  text  of  the  same  piece  goes  under  the  name  of  The  Lazy  Man. 

47.  WICKED  POLLY.     Text  from  E.   F.  Piper,  who  had  it  from 
Mrs.  Lydia  Hinshaw  of  Richland,  Iowa.     The  second  text  is  one  of 
four  printed  by  P.  Barry,  Modern  Language  Notes,  vol.  28,  p.  1.     A. 
H.  Tolman  has  a  version  in  The  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol. 
29,  p.  192,  1916. 

48.  JOHNNY  SANDS.     The  first  text  is  from  a  manuscript  book  of 
songs  obtained  by  Grace  Munson  of  Chicago  from  Mrs.  Woodruff  of 
Weston  Road,  Wellesley,  in  1916.     The  second  text  is  .from  Harry 
Gear,  of  Junction,  Wyoming,  1914.     For  this  song  see  A.  H.  Tolman, 
"Some  Songs  Traditional  in  the  United  States,"  Journal  oj  American 
Folk-Lore,  vol.  29,  p.  178,  with  Kittredge's  annotations.     It  belongs 
to  the   forties   of   the   nineteenth   century.     It   achieved   enormous 
vogue  in  this  country,  says  Professor  Kittredge,  by  forming  part  of 
the  repertory  of  the  Hutchinson  Family,  the  Continental  Vocalists, 
and  other  singing  "troupes." 

49.  FULLER    AND    WARREN.     Obtained    from    Jane    Andrews    of 
Cambridge,  Nebraska,  in  1915.     Miss  Andrews  made  this  comment: 
"This  song  was  sung  in  1874  by  some  young  men  in  western  Nebraska 
who  had  come  from  the  vicinity  in  which  this  really  happened." 

50.  POOR  COINS.     Obtained   by  G.   L.   Kittredge  from  Loraine 
Wyman  "as  sung  by  Rob  Morgan,  Hindman,  Kentucky,  in  1916." 
See  "Songs  and  Ballads,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  30, 
p.  361,  1917. 

51.  POOR  OMIE.     From  the  singing  of  Mr.  Hilliard  Smith  at  Hind 
man,  Kentucky,  1909.     See  Campbell  and  Sharp,  English  Folk  Songs 
from  the  Southern  Appalachians,  p.  228.     Professor  H.    M.    Belden 
has  a  copy  of  Omie  Wise  (Poor  Omie)  from  Earl  Cruikshank,  with  the 
following  account:  "This  song  was  handed  down  to  my  mother 
through  her  grandfather  who  came  from  Virginia.     My  mother  says 
that  he  was  acquainted  with  Omie  Wise  and  had  danced  with  her  and 
went  in  the  same  circle  with  her.     He  described  her  as  being  a  small 
light-complexioned   girl.     One  time  when  he  sang  this  eong  at  a 


250  NOTES 

literary  meeting  or  singing  school  in  Indiana,  there  was  a  stranger 
at  the  meeting  who  got  up  and  left  the  meeting  and  skipped  the 
country.  Many  people  thought  perhaps  this  man  might  have  been 
the  Lewis  who  murders  Omie  in  the  song." 

52.  SILVER  DAGGER.     The  first  text  was  secured  by  Lillian  Gear 
Boswell  from  the  singing  of  Myrtle  Smith  Badger  of  Junction,  Wyo 
ming,  in  1914.     The  second  text  was  learned  in  Mackinaw,  Illinois, 
by  Mrs.  Mary  F.  Lindsay  of  Hebron,  Nebraska. 

53.  THE  AGED  INDIAN.     Text  from  Mrs.  E.  N.  Hardin  of  Missouri 
Valley,  Iowa,  1916.     A  fragment  of  the  same  song  from  Red  Cloud, 
Nebraska  (1915)  bears  the  title  "Uncle  Tohido."     H.  M.  Belden'a 
Missouri  text  is  named  "Uncle  Tahia." 

54.  CALOMEL.     Obtained  by  E.  F.  Piper  of  Iowa  City  from  a 
manuscript  book  of  ballads  in  the  possession  of  Mrs.  Lydia  Hinshaw 
of  Richland,  Iowa,  as  it  was  sung  by  the  latter's  mother  when  she 
came  from  Ohio  to  Iowa  in  1840.     The  song  is  still  alive  in  fragment, 
or  shortened  versions.     A  copy  in  a  manuscript  book  from  Indianas 
the  property  of  Edna  Fulton  Waterman,  has  for  the  date  of  its  tran 
scription  1844.     Possibly  of  British  importation. 

55.  THE   CREOLE  GIRL.     Obtained   by   E.   F.   Piper   from   Ival 
McPeak,  who  learned  it  from  the  singing  of  his  father  in  Iowa. 

56.  THE  BLUE  AND  THE  GRAY.     Text  from  L.   C.  Wimberly'a 
manuscript  book,   1916.     One  of  the  most  widely  current  of  the 
songs  remaining  from  the  Cuban  War. 

57.  THE  GAMBLER.     Secured  for  H.  M.  Belden  by  Miss  Frances 
Barbour,  Washington  University,  from  the  singing  of  Minnie  Doge 
at  Arlington,  Phelps  County,  Missouri,  in  1917. 

58.  IN  THE  BAGGAGE  COACH  AHEAD.     Text  obtained  from  Blanche 
Pope  of  Red  Cloud,  Nebraska,  in  1914.     According  to  The  Literary 
Digest,  November  13,  1915,  In  the  Baggage  Coach  Ahead  was  one  of 
the  songs  sung  in  vaudeville  circuits  to  the  accompaniment  of  colored 
pictures   thrown  on   the   screen — "pictures   as   honest   and   whole 
hearted  in  their  coloring  as  they  were  heart-rending  in  subject." 

59.  CASEY  JONES.     Phillips  Barry  writes  of  this  song  that  Casey 
Jones  was  John  Luther  Jones,  engineer  of  the  Chicago  and  New 
Orleans  Limited,  who  was  killed  in  a  wreck  March  18,  1900.     The 
song  was  composed  by  a  negro,  Wallace  Saunders.     See  The  Railroad 
Man's   Magazine,   November,    1910.     The  version   printed   here  is 
from  the  issue  of  May  1918  of  the  same  periodical.     The  vaudeville 
version  was  published  in  1909  as  the  composition  of  T.  L.  Seibert  and 
E.  Newton.     It  was  one  of  the  "hits"  of  the  day.     This  accounts 
for  the  currency  of  the  ballad. 

60.  THE  LADY  ELGIN.     Text  as  sung  on  a  ranch  at  Junction, 
Wyoming.     Obtained  by  Lillian  Gear  Boswell  in  1914.     This  song 
is  by  Henry  C.  Work  and  commemorates  a  wreck  on  Lake  Michigan 


NOTES  251 

in  1860.     The  singers  had  no  knowledge  whatever  of  its  authorship 
and  origin. 

61.  THE  JAMESTOWN  FLOOD.     Text  known  to  May  B.  Wimberly  of 
Lincoln,  1917.     The  subject  is  plainly  the  Johnstown  flood  of  1890, 
but  the  title  as  given  by  Mrs.  Wimberly  is  retained. 

62.  THE  MILWAUKEE  FIRE.     Text  obtained  by  L.  C.  Wimberly 
about  1916  from  M.  Boynton,  Missouri  Valley,  Iowa. 

63.  THE  FATAL  WEDDING.     Text  obtained  from  Blanche  Pope  of 
Red  Cloud,  Nebraska,  about  1914.     Still  popular  in  many  regions. 

64.  JESSE  JAMES.     Text  known  to  Professor  Reed  Smith  (1920) 
of  the  University  of  South  Carolina,  as  current  in  that  region.     The 
second  text  is  from  Iowa,  and  was  secured  by  L.  C.  Wimberly  of  the 
University  of  Nebraska  in  1916.     A  local  ballad  which  is  an  adapta 
tion  of  Jesse  James  is  The  Assassinatioh  of  J.  B.  Marcum,  printed  by 
William  Aspinwall  Bradley  in  "Song-Ballets  and  Devil's  Ditties," 
Harper's  Magazine,  May,  1915,  p.  901.     The  origin  of  Jesse  James 
is  unknown.     It  is  possible  that  it  is  itself  an  adaptation. 

65.  (A)  CHARLES  GUITEAU.     Text  secured   by  Professor  E.   F. 
Piper  of  the  University  of  Iowa,  from  a  student  who  had  it  from 
South   Dakota.     The  origin  of  this   song   is  unknown.     Dr.   Carl 
Van  Doren  says  that  he  often  heard  it  in  Illinois  during  the  90'a 
from  his  father. 

(B)  THE  DEATH  OF  YOUNG  BENDALL.  Text  from  Miss  Agnes 
Andrews  of  Cambridge,  Nebraska.  1918.  She  writes  of  the  piece 
as  follows:  "A  young  man  by  the  name  of  Bendall  whose  parents 
were  supposed  to  be  living  in  England  in  wealth  came  to  Canada 
about  the  year  1890  and  settled  near  St.  Thomas,  Ontario.  He  soon 
made  friends  with  a  young  married  man  by  the  name  of  J.  J.  Bircnell. 
Birchell,  knowing  that  Bendall  carried  much  gold  on  his  person, 
enticed  him  out  on  a  hunting  expedition  and  very  coolly  shot  him. 
The  lines  of  Young  Bendatt  were  composed  and  set  to  music  by  a 
young  school  teacher  in  the  neighborhood  where  the  tragedy  took 
place." 

A  third  piece  of  the  same  pattern  is  John  T.  WiUiama.  A 
fragment  of  it  from  Mrs.  E.  N.  Hardin  (1916)  of  Missouri  Valley, 
Iowa,  who  had  it  from  a  ranchman  at  Cambridge,  Nebraska,  who 
had  it  from  Canada,  begins  as  follows: 

My  name  it  is  John  T.  Williams, 

My  name  I'll  never  deny, 
I'll  leave  my  dear  old  parents 

To  suffer  and  to  die, 
For  murdering     .... 
Upon  the  scaffold  high. 

Their  testimony  is  to  the  effect  that  it  was  sung  in  the  seventies 
before  the  death  of  Garfield  (1881).     Other  pieces  from  the  same 


252  NOTES 

singers  are  old,  or  are  closer  to  their  Old  World  originals  than  many 
American  texts,  so  that  it  is  possible  that  John  T.  Williams,  or  some 
other  predecessor  of  Charles  Guiteau  and  Young  Bendall,  was  the 
model  for  these  pieces.  The  song  is  of  a  staple  pattern  and,  in  its 
original  form,  might  belong  either  to  the  Old  or  the  New  World. 

66.  SAM  BASS.     Text  from  Lomax's  Cowboy  Songs,  p.  149.     N.  H. 
Thorpe,  Songs  of  the  Cowboys   (p.   135),  credits  the  authorship  to 
John  Denton,  Gainesville,  Texas,  1879. 

67.  JACK  WILLIAMS.     From  a  manuscript  book  of  ballads  in  the 
possession  of  L.  C.  Wimberly,  1916.     Probably  of  British  importa 
tion.     In  another  Nebraska  text,  the  place  names  are  changed  to 
"Bowery  Street"  and  "Sing  Sing." 

68.  YOUNG  McFEE.     Text  secured  by  L.  C.  Wimberly  from  Mrs. 
E.   N.   Hardin  of   Missouri  Valley,   Iowa,    1916.     Professor  A.  H. 
Tolman  prints  a  much  longer  text  in  The  Journal  of  American  F oik- 
Lore,  vol.  29,  p.  186,  with  the  following  comment:  "This  text  was 
obtained  through  Mrs.  Pearl  H.  Bartholomew  from  Mrs.   M.   M. 
Soners,  both  of  Warren,  Indiana.     The  mother  of  Mrs.  Soners  sang 
it  to  her  almost  fifty  years  ago  in  Ohio.     Mrs.  Soners  states  that 
the  poem  records  an  actual  occurrence  and  that  her  mother  knew 
Hettie  Stout  well."     Like   The  Death  of  Garfield,  this  may  be  an 
indigenous  ballad,  or  merely  an  American  adaptation  of  some  older 
piece.     Note  the  "ten  thousand  pounds"  of  the  last  stanza. 

69.  BONNY  BLACK  BESS.     Text  from  Mrs.  John  Leslie  of  Stanford, 
Montana,  secured  by  Mabel  Conrad  Sullivan  of  Winnett,  Montana, 
in  1915.     A  song  having  the  same  title  and  the  same  hero,  but  other 
wise  not  identical,  appears  in  Lomax's  Cowboy  Songs,  p.  194. 

70.  TURPIN  AND  THE  LAWYER.     A  Nova  Scotia  text.     See  W.  R. 
Mackenzie,  The  Quest  of  the  Ballad  (1919),  p.  144.     Fragments  of 
the  same  song,  brought  from  New  York,  are  known  in  Nebraska. 

71.  JACK  DONAHOO.     Text  from  Lomax's  Cowboy  Songs,  p.  64, 
Practically  the  same  text  appears  in  Nova  Scotia.     See  Mackenzie. 
The  Quest  of  the  Ballad,  p.  66. 

72.  CAPTAIN  KIDD.     Text  from  Pilgrims  of  the  Plains  (1913)  by 
Mrs.  Kate  A.  Aplington  of  Council  Groves,  Kansas,  p.  56.     This 
book  contains  a  number  of  old  songs.     Fragments  of  Captain  Kidd 
are  still  current  in  scattered  places. 

73.  TEXAS  RANGERS.     Text  obtained  from  Mrs.  Eliza  Shelman  of 
Hansen's   Ferry,    Washington,  in  1908.     It  was  learned  by  her  in 
Nodaway  County,  Missouri,  in  her  childhood. 

74.  THE  LITTLE  OLD  SOD  SHANTY  ON  MY  CLAIM.     Text  obtained 
from  Lillian  Gear  Boswell  of  Wheatland.  Wyoming,  1914.     This  is 
an  adaptation  of  the  popular  negro  or  psuedo-negro  song  "The  Little 
Old  Log  Cabin  in  the  Lane,"  by  Will  S.  Hays.     According  to  A.  J. 
Leach,  the  historian  of  Antelope  County,  Nebraska,  the  words  were 


NOTES  253 

printed  on  the  backs  of  cards  with  the  instructions  that  they  were  to 
be  sung  to  the  melody  of  "The  Little  Old  Log  Cabin."  On  the  front 
of  the  cards  were  pictures  of  a  sod  shanty.  See  Modern  Language 
Notes,  January,  1918.  Mr.  F.  W.  Schaupp  of  Lincoln,  Nebraska, 
says  that  the  adaptation  was  made  by  a  Nebraskan  of  his  acquain 
tance,  Emery  Miller,  when  he  was  holding  down  a  Nebraska  claim 
in  the  eighties.  Most  texts  of  the  song  come  from  the  Central 
Western  region.  It  still  has  no  little  currency. 

75.  COBOWY  SONG.     Obtained  by  Frances  Francis  of  Cheyenne 
from  Winthrop  Condict  of  Saratoga,  Wyoming,  in  1911.     It  is  built 
upon  the  religious  song,  In  the  Sweet  By  and  By.     Mr.  Lomax  prints 
a  slightly  different  text,  The  Cowboy's  Dream  in  Cowboy  Songs,  p.  18. 
N.  H.  Thorpe,  Songs  of  the  Cowboys  (p.  40)  ascribes  the  authoiship 
to  the   "  father  of  Captain  Roberts,   of  the  Texas  Rangers."     His 
copy  was  given  to  him  by  Wait  Rogers  in  1898. 

76.  THE  OLD  CHISHOLM  TRAIL.     Text  from  Lomax's  Cowboy  Songs, 
p.  58.     See  also  Thorpe,  Songs  of  the  Cowboys,  p.  109. 

77.  THE  DYING  COWBOY.     Text  secured  by  Lillian  Gear  Boswell 
of  Wheatland,  Wyoming,  in  1914.    Brought  from  Illinois  to  Wyoming. 
This  is  an  adaptation  of  an  Irish  song,  The  Unfortunate  Rake,  dating 
from   the   eighteenth    century.     The   traces   of   a   military   funeral 
remaining  in  the  chorus  of  some  texts  are  somewhat  incongruous  in  a 
cowboy  song.     For  the  history  of  the  song  see  Phillips  Barry,  Journal 
of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  24,  p.  341.     The  Dying  Cowboy  is  widely 
current    in    the    Western    states.     Adaptation    credited    by    N.    H. 
Thorpe,  Songs  of  the  Cowboys  (p.  41),  to  Troy  Hale,  Battle  Creek, 
Nevada. 

78.  BURY  ME  NOT  ON  THE  LONE  PRAIRIE.     Also  known  as  The 
Dying  Cowboy.     Text  obtained  by  Mabel  Conrad  Sullivan  from  Mrs. 
John  Leslie  of  Stanford,  Montana,  in  1915.     An  adaptation  of  the 
once  popular  song  Ocean  Burial,  words  by  W.  H.  Saunders,  music  by 
G.   N.  Allen.     Credited  by  N.  H.   Thorpe,  Songs  of  the  Cowboys 
(p.  62),  to  H.  demons,  Deadwood,  Dakota,  1872. 

79.  I  WANT  TO  BE  A  COWBOY.     Text  secured  by  Frances  Francis 
of  Cheyenne  as  sung  in  Wyoming  about  1885.     It  is  an  adaptation 
of  the  religious  song  /  Want  to  Be  an  Angel. 

80.  WHOOPEE  Ti  Yi  Yo,  GIT  ALONG  LITTLE  DOGIES.     Text  from 
J.  A.  Lomax's  Cowboy's  Songs,  p.  87. 

81.  CHEYENNE  BOYS.     Text  as  sung  by  Mrs.  Jeanetta  Gear  of 
Junction,  Wyoming,  in  1914.     This  piece  is  widely  current,  with 
various    local    adaptations.     Compare    Mississippi    Girls,    Lomax, 
Cowboy  Songs,   p.   108,   Arizona  Boys  and  Girls,  Thoipe,   Songs  of 
the  Cowboys,  p.  1. 

82.  BREAKING    IN  A  TENDERFOOT.     Text  obtained  from  Frances 
Francis  of  Cheyenne  in  1911.     Thought  by  her  to  have  been  locally 


254  NOTES 

composed  near  Cheyenne.  Compare  The  Horse  Wrangler,  Lomax, 
p.  136.  N.  H.  Thorpe  (p.  146)  says  the  author  was  Yank  Hitson, 
Denver,  Colorado,  1889. 

83.  STARVING  TO  DEATH  ON  A  GOVERNMENT  CLAIM.    Text  ob 
tained  by  Vivian  Cleaver  Cleveland  at  Hot  Springs,  South  Dakota,  in 
1914.  ,  Compare  Greer  County,  Lomax,  p.  278. 

84.  THE  BUFFALO  SKINNERS.     Text  from  Lomax's  Cowboy  Songs, 
p.  158. 

85.  KINKAIDER'S  SONG.     Text  obtained  from  Mies  Harriet  Cook, 
of  Gem,  Nebraska,  in  1915.     A  homesteader's  song  popular  in  the 
Nebraska  sandhill  regions.     Sung  at  picnics,  reunions,  and  the  like 
to  the  tune  of  My  Maryland.     Moses  P.  Kinkaid  was  congressman 
ef  the  Sixth  Congressional  District,  1903-1919.     He  was  the  intro 
ducer  of  a  bill  for  640-acre  homesteads  known  as  the  "  Kinkaid  Home 
stead  Law." 

86.  DAKOTA  LAND.     Text  obtained  from  Lillian  Gear  Boswell  of 
Wheatland,  Wyoming,  in  1914.     This  piece  has  for  its  model  and  is 
sung  to  the  melody  of  the  religious  song  Beulah  Land. 

87.  THE  DREARY  BLACK  HILLS.     Text  obtained  from  Harry  Gear 
of  Junction,  Wyoming,  in  1914. 

88.  JOE  BOWERS.     This  version  was  obtained  in  1915  from  Mr. 
Francis  Withee  of  Stella,  Nebraska,  who  heard  it  sung  many  times 
when  a  freighter  in  1862-65  on  the  Denver-Nebraska  City  trail.     It 
was  a  freighter's  favorite.     The  song  is  supposed  to  be  sung  by  a 
Missourian  in  California  about  1849-51.     It  was  in  existence  as  early 
as  1854. 

89.  IN   THE    SUMMER   OF   SIXTY.     Text   obtained   from    Frances 
Francis  of  Cheyenne,  Wyoming,  in  1911. 

90.  THE  DYING  CALIFORNIAN.     Version  secured  by  L.  C.  Wimberly 
as  written  in  a  manuscript  book  from  Iowa  in  1856.     This  song  has 
wide  currency,  usually  in  somewhat  shortened  form.     It  is  known 
also  as   "The  Dying  Brother's  Farewell,"   "The  Dying  Brother's 
Request,"  and  "The  Brother's  Request." 

91.  THE  PRETTY  MOHEA.     Obtained  by  Mabel  Conrad  Sullivan 
from  Mrs.  John  Leslie  of  Stanford,  Montana,  1914.     In  many  texts 
of  this  song  the  name  "Mohea"  passes  into  "  Maumee,"  "The  Pretty 
Maumee." 

92.  (A)  KATIE'S  SECRET.     Text  as  sung  by  Mrs.  Mary  F.  Lindsay 
of  Hebron,  Nebraska,  1914. 

(B)  THE  HAWTHORN  TREE.     Text  obtained  by  L.  C.  Wimberly 
from  a  Louisiana  source. 

93.  MARY  AND  WILLIE.     Text  obtained  by  Mabel  Conrad  Sullivan 
from  Mrs.  John  Leslie  of  Stanford,  Montana,  1914.     This  piece  seems 
to  be  the  Annie  and  Willie  known,  according  to  Professor  Shearin,  in 
the  Cumberland  Mountains.     The  plot  resembles  that  of  The  Prentice 


NOTES  255 


Boy  (No.  31)  and  The  Rich  Young  Farmer  (No.  29).  It  may  also  be 
compared  with  that  of  The  Bailiff's  Daughter  of  Islington  (Child, 
No.  105.) 

94.  KITTY  WELLS.     Text  secured  by  Professor  Reed  Smith  in 
1920  from  a  student  at  the  University  of  South  Carolina,  J.  B.  Belk. 
Mr.  Belk  had  it  from  his  grandmother  who  heard  it  sung  by  slaves 
in  Union  County,  South  Carolina.     A  version  sung  by  Mrs.  Mary 
F.  Lindsay  of  Hebron,  Nebraska,  is  nearly  identical  but  has  an  addi 
tional  stanza. 

95.  PASTORAL  ELEGY.     Text  obtained  by  Professor  Edwin  F.  Piper, 
from  a  manuscript  book  belonging  to  Mrs.  Lydia  Hinshaw  of  Rich- 
land,  Iowa.     Mrs.  Hinshaw  says  that  it  was  sung  by  her  mother 
who  knew  it  when  she  came  to  Iowa  from  Ohio  in  1840.     "  Coroden" 
is  obviously  from  Corydon. 

96.  THE  COURTSHIP  OF  BILLY  GRIMES.     Text  of  A.  J.  Leach  of 
Oakdale,  Antelope  County,  Nebraska,  in  1914,  who  learned  it  as 
"sung  before  1850  in  Michigan." 

97.  FAIR  FANNY  MOORE.     Text  obtained  from  Mrs.  John  Leslie 
of  Stanford,   Montana,    1915.     Mr.   Lomax's  Texas  text  is  nearly 
identical  and  the  ballad  is  listed  by  H.  M.  Belden  as  known  in  Mis 
souri.     It  still  has  wide  currency. 

98.  I  WISH  I  WAS  SINGLE  AGAIN.     Text  obtained  from  Lillian 
Gear  Boswell  when  living  at  Junction,  Wyoming,  in  1914.     According 
to  H.  M.  Belden,  the  authorship  of  this  popular  piece  is  claimed  by 
George  Meeks,  a  ballad  singer  in  Kansas.     "A  Study  in  Contemporary 
Balladry,"  The  Mid-West  Quarterly,  vol.  I,  p.  170.     1913-14. 

99.  I'LL  NOT  MARRY  AT  ALL.     Text  obtained  from  Mabel  Conrad 
Sullivan  of  Winnett,  Montana,  1915. 

100.  ROSEN  THE   Bow.     Text  obtained   through   Mabel   Conrad 
Sullivan  from  Mrs.  John  Leslie  of  Stanford,  Montana,  1915.     Other 
texts,  as  that  of  J.  A.  Lomax  in  Cowboy  Songs,  spell  the  title  Rosin 
the  Beau.     The  song  is  piinted  as  an  "Old  English  Song"  in  The 
Franklin  Square  Song  Collection,  No.  2,  p.  48  (1884)  under  the  name 
Rosin  the  Bow,  which  is  probably  the  original  spelling. 

101.  EVALINA.     Text   from    Marie   Gladys   Hayden   of   Hobson, 
Montana,  1914. 

102.  MY  BLUE-EYED  BOY.     From  a  manuscript  book  of  songs 
from  oral  transcription  in  the  possession  of  Sadie  Thurman  Hewitt 
of  Brokenbow,  Nebraska.     Transcribed  under  the  date  of  February, 
1905. 

103.  THE  OLD  GRAY  MULE.     Text  obtained  from  Iowa  sources  by 
L.  C.  Wimberly  of  the  University  of  Nebraska,  1917. 

104.  (A)  I  WILL  TELL  You  OP  A  FELLOW.     Text  obtained  from 
Northeastern  Iowa  by  L.  A.  Quivey  in  1914.     The  song  is  usually 
known  as  "Common  Will."     For  other  versions,  see  Broadwood  and 


256  NOTES 

Maitland,  English  County  Songs,  p.  52,  1893,  and  The  Journal  of 
American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  28,  173,  vol.  29,  171,  etc. 

105.  THE  PREACHER'S  LEGACY.     From  Mrs.  Hinshaw's  manuscript 
book,  had  by  her  from  the  singing  of  N.  C.  Johnson.     Her  copy  is  to 
be  dated  about  1879.     Secured  through  E.  F.  Piper. 

106.  THE  SPANISH  CABINEER.     Text  as  sung  on  a  ranch  at  Junc 
tion,    Wyoming,    1913.     Secured    by    Lillian    Gear    Boswell.     Thiii 
version  of  the  well-known  college  song  The  Spanish  Cavalier  is  in 
cluded  because  of  the  interest  of  the  folk-etymological  changes  of  the 
first  stanza. 

107.  THE  Two  DRUMMERS.     Text  obtained  from  Mrs.  E.  N.  Har- 
din,  of  Missouri  Valley,  Iowa,  in  1916,  through  L.  C.  Wimberly.     Of 
interest  is  the  rapid  action  of  its  last  part.     The  song  is  of  compara 
tively  recent  composition.     It  is  by  Edward  B.  Marks  and  was  pub 
lished  by  Joseph  Western  in  1896.     As  with  After  the  Ball,  Two  Little 
Girls  in  Blue,  and  other  song  hits  of  the  1890's  which  still  have  vitality 
in  out  of  the  way  places,  all  knowledge  of  its  authorship  and  origin 
is  lacking  to  its  singers. 

108.  THE  QUAKER'S  COURTSHIP.     Text  obtained  from  Iowa  by  L. 
C.  Wimberly,  in  1916.     For  this  song,  see  Newell,  Games  and  Songs 
of  American   Children   (1903),   p.   94.     It  is   an   importation   from 
England,  like  most  of  the  following  pieces. 

109.  DUTCHMAN,  DUTCHMAN,  WON'T  You  MARRY  ME?     Text  of 
Miss  Edith  Little,  Falls  City,  Nebraska,  in  1914.     This  is  a  variant 
of  the  well-known  "Soldier,  Soldier,  Won't  You  Marry  Me?"     See 
Newell,  Games  and  Songs,  p.  93. 

110.  WHAT  WILL  You  GIVE  ME  IP  I  GET  UP?     Text  of  Misa 
Lucia  Saxer  of  Mount  Clare,  Nebraska,  1914.     This  song  is  usually 
entitled  LAZY  MARY.     It  is  sometimes  used  in  a  singing  game.     See 
Newell,  Games  and  Songs,  p.  96. 

111.  PAPER  OF  PINS.     Text  secured  from  Louisiana  by  L.   C. 
Wimberly,  in  1916.     Compare  Newell,  Games  and  Songs,  p.  52. 

112.  (A)  THE    MILKMAID.     Text    secured    from    the    singing    of 
children  at  Omaha  by  Elizabeth  Gordon,  1915. 

(B)  THE  PRETTY  MILKMAID.  Text  secured  by  Frances 
Botkin  and  Zora  Schaupp  from  Mrs.  Adna  Dobson  of  Lincoln, 
Nebraska. 

113.  BILLY  BOY.     From  the  singing  of  Mrs.  Ava  Shellenbarger 
of  Pawnee  City,  Nebraska,  1911.     This  favorite  song  is  an  Old  World 
importation.     See  The  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  26,  p.  357. 

114.  POOR  ROBIN.     Text  obtained  from  Nuckolls  County,   Ne 
braska,  by  Miss  Alice  Hanthorne,  in  1915.     Other  versions  have  the 
titles  "Old  Rover,"  "Poor  Roger,"  "Poor  Johnny,"  etc.     This  is 
an  old  song.     Compare  The  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol.  13, 
p.  230,  1900.     It  is  now  mostly  a  motion  song  in  children's  gamea 


NOTES  257 

Compare  also  Alice  Gomme,  Dictionary  of  British  F 'oik-Lore,  vol.  II, 
p.  16,  1898. 

115.  BABES  IN  THE  WOODS.     Text  from  Harry  Gear  of  Junction, 
Wyoming,  1913.     This  favorite  song  is  still  sung  by  grown-ups  in 
the  Kentucky  mountains.     Compare  Bishop  Percy's  account  of  the 
Children  in  the  Woods,  Reliques  of  Ancient  English  Poetry  (1865). 

116.  IN  GOOD  OLD  COLONY  TIMES.     Text  from   Mrs.   Mary  F. 
Lindsay  of  Hebron,  Nebraska,  in  1915.     For  the  history  of  this  song, 
see  The  Ballad  of  the  Three  in  A.  H.  Tolman's  "Some  Songs  Tradi 
tional  in  the  United  States,"  Journal  of  American  Folk-Lore,  vol. 
29,  p.  167  (1916)  and  G.  L.  Kittredge's  annotation. 

117.  LET'S  Go  TO  THE  WOODS.     Text  of  Mrs.  Mary  F.  Lindsay. 
Hebron,    Nebraska,    1916.     Sometimes   known   as   Bobbin,   Bobbin, 
Richard,  and  John,  or  The  Wren  Shooting.     For  this  song,  see  the 
account  of  St.  Stephen's  Day  customs  in  G.  F.  Northall's  English 
Folk-Rhymes,  1892.     It  was  printed  as  a  nursery  song  in  Gammer 
Gurton's  Garland,  1783. 

118.  I  BOUGHT  ME  A  WIFE.     Text  obtained  by  Elizabeth  Gordon 
from  Esther  Knapp  in  Omaha,  1915.     Miss  Knapp's  mother  learned 
it  in  childhood  from  the  singing  of  another  child.     For  the  final  coup 
let,  compare  a  song  in  a  comedy  by  W.  Wager  (about  1568),  which 
runs — 

I  laid  my  bridle  upon  the  shelf; 

If  you  will  anymore,  sing  it  yourself. 

119.  WE'LL  ALL  Go  DOWN  TO  ROWSER'S.     Text  from  E.  R.  Harlan 
of  Des  Moines,  Iowa,  1914.     This  piece  is  sometimes  merely  sung 
but  usually  it  is  a  game  song. 

120.  SWEET  FIELDS  OP  VIOLO.     Obtained  by  Mabel  Conrad  Sul 
livan  from  Fern  Sikes  of  Crete,  Nebraska,  in  1915.     The  singer  should 
"end  the  piece  with  a  good  crow."     This  song  has  some  relation  to  the 
college  or  glee  club  song,  My  Father  Has  Some  Very  Fine  Ducks. 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Aged  Indian,  The.     No.  53. 
Allen,  Barbara.     No.  3. 
Apprentice  Boy,  The.     No.  22. 

Babes  in  the  Woods,  The.     No. 

115. 

Babes,  The  Three.     No.  7. 
Baggage  Coach  Ahead,  In  the. 

No.  58. 
Ballad  of  the  Three,  The.     No. 

116. 

Bamboo  Briars,  The.     No.  22. 
Banks  of  the  Old  Pedee,  The. 

No.  45. 

Bass,  Sam.     No.  66. 
Battle  of  Point  Pleasant,  The. 

No.  40. 

Bayham,  Lord.     No.  14. 
Barbara  Allen.     No.  3. 
Bendall,  The  Death  of.     No.  65. 
Bess,  My  Bonny  Black.     No.  69. 
Betsy,  Johnny  and.     No.  26. 
Billy  Boy.     No.  113. 
Billy    Grimes'    Courtship.     No. 

96. 

Bird,  James.     No.  41. 
Black  Hills,   The   Dreary.     No. 

87. 

Blue-Eyed  Boy,  My.     No.  102. 
Bond,  Molly.     No.  33. 
Bonny  Black  Bess.     No.  69. 
Boston  Burglar,  The.     No.  23. 
Bowers,  Joe.     No.  88. 
Bow,  Rosen  the.     No.  100. 
Breaking  in  a  Tenderfoot.     No. 

82. 

Brother,  The  Cruel.     No.  8. 
Boy,  The  Apprentice.     No.  22. 
Boy,  Billy.     No.  113. 
Boy,  The  Butcher's.     No.  24. 
Boy,  The  Farmer's.     No.  28. 
Boy,  My  Blue-Eyed.     No.  102. 


Boy,  The  Prentice.     No.  31. 
Boys,  Cheyenne.     No.  81. 
Boys,  Two  Little.     No.  18. 
Briars,  The  Bamboo.     No.  22. 
Buffalo  Skinners,  The.     No.  84. 
Burglar,  The  Boston.     No.  23. 
Bury  Me  Not  on  the  Lone  Prai 
rie.     No.  77. 
Butcher's  Boy,  The.     No.  24. 

Cabineer,  The  Spanish.    No.  106. 
Californian,  The  Dying.    No.  90. 
Calomel.     No.  54. 
Captain  Kidd.     No.  72. 
Carpenter,  The  House.     No.  17. 
Carol,    The   Cherry    Tree.     No. 

19. 

Casey  Jones.     No.  59. 
Charlotte,  Young.     No.  44. 
Charles  Guiteau.     No.  65. 
Charlestown.     No.  23. 
Cherry   Tree   Carol,    The.     No. 

19. 

Cheyenne  Boys,  The.     No.  81. 
Children's  Song.     No.  7. 
Claim,     The     Little     Old     Sod 

Shanty  on  My.     No.  74. 
Colony    Times,    In    Good    Old. 

No.  116. 

Common  Will.     No.  104. 
Constant    Farmer's    Son,    The. 

No.  32. 

Coolen  Bawn,  My.     No.  38. 
Corn,  The  Man  Who  Wouldn't 

Hoe.     No.  46. 
Courtship  of  Billy  Grimes,  The. 

No.  96. 
Courtship,   The  Quaker's.     No. 

108. 
Courtship,       William      Reilly's. 

No.  38. 
Cowboy,  The  Dying.     No.  77. 


261 


262 


INDEX 


Cowboy,  I  Want  To  Be  a.     No. 

79. 

Cowboy  Song.     No.  75. 
Creole  Girl,  The.     No.  55. 
Cruel  Brother,  The.     No.  8. 

Dagger,  The  Silver.     No.  52. 
Dakota  Land.     No.  86. 
Dandoo.     No.  6. 
Death  of  Bendall,  The.     No.  65. 
Death  of  Garfield.     No.  65. 
Death  of  a  Romish  Lady,  The. 

No.  25. 

Donahoo,  Jack.     No.  71. 
Dieary  Black  Hills,  The.     No. 

87. 

Drowsy  Sleeper,  The.     No.  21. 
Drummers,  The  Two.     No.  107. 
Dutchman,     Dutchman,    Won't 

You  Marry  Me?     No.  109. 
Dying    Californian,     The.     No. 

90. 
Dying  Cowboy,  The.     No.  77. 

Edward.     No.  9. 

Elgin,  The  Wreck  of  the  Lady. 

No.  60. 

Elegy,  Pastoral.     No.  95. 
Evalina.     No.  101. 

False  Knight,  The.  No.  20. 
Fair  Fanny  Moore.  No.  97. 
Farmer's  Boy,  The.  No.  28. 
Farmer,  The  Rich  Young.  No. 

29. 

Fatal  Wedding,  The.     No.  63. 
Father  Grumble.     No.  36. 
Fawkes,  Guy.     No.  37. 
Fields  of  Violo,  The.     No.  120. 
Fire,  The  Milwaukee.     No.  62. 
Flood,  The  Jamestown.     No.  61. 
Fuller  and  Warren.     No.  49. 

Gambler,  The.     No.  57. 
Garfield,  The  Death  of.     No.  65. 


Girl,  The  Creole,     No.  55. 
Goins,  Poor.     No.  50. 
Government  Claim,  Starving  to 

Death  on  a.     No.  83. 
Gray,  The  Blue  and  the.     No. 

56. 
Gray  Mare,  My  Father's.     No. 

34. 

Gray  Mule,  The  Old.     No.  103. 
Groves,  Little  Matthy.     No.  15. 
Grumble,  Father.     No.  36. 
Guiteau,  Charles.     No.  65. 
Guy  Fawkes.     No.  37. 

Hangman's  Song,  The.  No.  13. 
Hawthorne  Tree,  The.  No.  92- 
Hills,  The  Dreary  Black.  No. 

87. 
Hoe     Corn,     The     Man     That 

Wouldn't.     No.  46. 
Horse- Wrangler,  The.     No.  82. 
House  Carpenter,  The.     No.  17. 

I  Bought  Me  a  Wife.     No.  118. 
I'll  Not  Marry  at  All.     No.  99. 
Indian,  The  Aged.     No.  53. 
In  Good  Old  Colony  Times.    No. 

116. 
In   the   Baggage   Coach  Ahead. 

No.  58. 
In   Springfield    Mountain.      No. 

42. 
In  the  Summer  of  Sixty.     No. 

89. 

I  Want  to  Be  a  Cowboy.  No.  79. 
I  Will  Tell  You  of  a  Fellow. 

No.  104. 
I  Wish  I  Was  Single  Again.    No. 

98. 

Jack  Donahoo.     No.  71. 
Jack  Williams.     No.  67. 
James  Bird.     No.  41. 
James,  Jesse.     No.  64. 
Jamestown  Flood,  The.     No.  61. 


INDEX 


263 


Jealous  Lover,  The.     No.  43. 
Jesse  James.     No.  64. 
Jewish  Lady,  The.     No.  5. 
Jew  Lady,  The.     No.  5. 
Jimmy  Randolph.     No.  1. 
Johnny  and  Betsy.     No.  26. 
Johnny  Randall.     No.  1. 
Johnny  Sands.     No.  48. 
Jones,  Casey.     No.  59. 

Katie's  Secret.     No.  92. 
Kidd,  Captain.     No.  72. 
Kinkaider's  Song,  The.     No.  85. 
Kitty  Wells.     No.  94. 
Knight,  The  False.     No.  20. 

Lazy  Mary.     No.  110. 
Lady  Elgin,  The.     No.  60. 
Lady,  The  Jewish.     No.  5. 
Lady,  The  Jew.     No.  5. 
Lady,  The  Death  of  the  Romish. 

No.  25. 

Land,  Dakota.     No.  86. 
Lawyer,   Turpin  and  the.     No. 

70. 
Legacy,     The    Preacher's.     No. 

105. 
Let's   Go   to   the   Woods.     No. 

117. 

Little  Matthy  Groves.     No.  15. 
Little  Old  Sod  Shanty  on  My 

Claim,  The.     No.  74. 
Lone  Piairie,  The.     No.  78. 
Lord  Bayham.     No.  14. 
Lorella,  Poor.     No.  43. 
Lord  Thomas.     No.  12. 
Lovel,  Lord.     No.  2. 
Lover,  The  Jealous.     No.  43. 
Lover,  Lord.     No.  2. 
Lover's  Return,  The.     No.  30. 
Lowlands  Low,  The.     No.  10. 

Man  That  Wouldn't  Hoe  Corn, 
The.     No.  46. 


Mare,  My  Father's  Gray.     No. 

34. 

Mary,  Lazy.     No.  110. 
Mary  and  Willie.     No.  21. 
Mary  and  Willie.     No.  93. 
Mary  o'  the  Wild  Moor.    No.  35. 
Matthy  Groves,  Little.     No.  15. 
McFee,  Young.     No.  68. 
Milkmaid,  The.     No.  112. 
Milwaukee  Fire,  The.     No.  62. 
Mohea,  The  Pretty.     No.  91. 
Molly  Bond.     No.  33. 
Moore,  Fair  Fannie.     No.  97. 
My  Blue-Eyed  Boy.     No.  102. 
My  Bonny  Black  Bess.    No.  69. 
My  Father's  Gray  Mare.     No. 

34. 
Mule,  The  Old  Gray.    No.  103. 

North  Countree,  The  Old  Man 
of  the.     No.  4. 

O  Bury  Me  Not  on  the  Lone 

Prairie.     No.  78. 
O  Johnny  Dear,  Why  Did  You 

Go?     No.  42. 
Old  Chisholm  Trail,  The.     No. 

76. 

Old  Gray  Mule,  The.     No.  103. 
Old  Man  of  the  North  Countree, 

The.     No.  4. 
Old  Pedee,  On  the  Banks  of  the. 

No.  45. 

Old  Shawnee,  The.     No.  45. 
Omie,  Poor.     No.  51. 

Paper  of  Pins,  A.     No.  111. 
Pastoral  Elegy.     No.  95. 
Pedee,  On  the  Banks  of  the  Old. 

No.  45. 

Pins,  A  Paper  of.     No.  111. 
Point  Pleasant,   The  Battle  of. 

No.  40. 
Polly,  Wicked.     No.  47. 


264 


INDEX 


Ponchartrain,     The    Lakes    of. 

No.  55. 

Poor  Coins.     No.  50. 
Poor  Lorella.     No.  43. 
Poor  Omie.     No.  51. 
Poor  Robin.     No.  114. 
Preacher's    Legacy,    The.      No. 

105. 
Prentice  Boy,  The.     No.  31. 

Quaker's  Courtship,  The.     No. 
108. 

Rangers,  The  Texas.     No.  73. 
Randall,  Johnny.     No.  1. 
Randolph,  Jimmy.     No.  1. 
Return,  The  Lover's.     No.  30. 
Rich  Young  Farmer,  The.     No. 

29. 
Robin,     Bobin,     Richard,     and 

John.     No.  117. 
Robin,  Poor.     No.  114. 
Romish  Lady,  The  Death  of  a. 

No.  25. 

Rosen  the  Bow.     No.  100. 
Rowser's,  We'll  All  Go  Down  to. 

No.  119. 

Sam  Bass.     No.  66. 
Sailor  Boys,  The  Three.     No.  11. 
Sands,  Johnny.     No.  48. 
Secret,  Katie's.     No.  92. 
Shawnee,  On  the  Banks  of  the 

Old.     No.  45. 

Silver  Dagger,  The.     No.  52. 
Sisters,  The  Two.     No.  4. 
Sixty,  In  the  Summer  of.     No. 

89. 

Skinners,  The  Buffalo.     No.  84. 
Sleeper,  The  Drowsy.     No.  21. 
Sod  Shanty,  The  Little  Old.    No. 

74. 

Soldier,  The.     No.  27. 
Song,  The  Children's.     No.  7. 


Song,  The  Cowboy's.     No.  74. 

Song,  The  Hangman's.     No.  13. 

Song,  The  Kinkaider's.     No.  85. 

Son,  The  Constant  Farmer's. 
No.  32. 

Spanish  Cabineer,  The.  No. 
104. 

Springfield  Mountain.     No.  42. 

Starving  to  Death  on  a  Govern 
ment  Claim.  No.  83. 

Summer  of  Sixty,  In  the.  No. 
89. 

Sweet  Fields  of  Violo.    No.  120. 

Sweet  William.     No.  16. 

Tavern  hi  the  Town,  There's  a. 

No.  24. 
Tenderfoot,  Breaking  in  a.    No. 

82. 

Texas  Rangers,  The.     No.  73. 
The  Aged  Indian.     No.  53. 
The  Apprentice  Boy.     No.  22. 
The  Babes  in  the  Wood.     No. 

115. 
The  Baggage  Coach  Ahead.    No. 

58. 

The  Bamboo  Briars.     No.  22. 
The   Banks   of   the   Old  Pedee. 

No.  45. 
The   Battle   of   Point   Pleasant. 

No.  40. 
The  Blue   and   the   Gray.     No. 

56. 

The  Blue-Eyed  Boy.     No.  102. 
The  Boston  Burglar.     No.  24. 
The  Buffalo  Skinners.     No.  84. 
The  Butcher's  Boy.     No.  24. 
The  Cherry  Tree  Carol.    No.  19. 
The    Constant    Farmer's    Son. 

No.  32. 
The  Courtship  of  Billy  Grimes. 

No.  96. 

The  Cruel  Brother.     No.  8. 
The  Death  of  Bendall.     No.  65. 
The  Death  of  Garfield.     No.  65. 


INDEX 


265 


The  Death  of  a  Romish  Lady. 

No.  25. 
The   Dreary  Black  Hills.     No. 

87. 

The  Drowsy  Sleeper.     No.  21. 
The  Dying  Calif ornian.     No.  90. 
The  Dying  Cowboy.     No.  77. 
The  False  Knight.     No.  21. 
The  Farmer's  Boy.     No.  29. 
The  Fatal  Wedding.     No.  63. 
The  Gambler.     No.  57. 
The  Hangman's  Song.     No.  13. 
The  Hawthorn  Tree.     No.  92. 
The  Horse  Wrangler.     No.  82. 
The  House  Carpenter.     No.  17. 
The  Jamestown  Flood.     No.  61. 
The  Jealous  Lover.     No.  43. 
The  Jewish  Lady.     No.  5. 
The  Jew  Lady.     No.  5. 
The  Kinkaider's  Song.     No.  85. 
The  Lady  Elgin.     No.  60. 
The  Lakes  of  Ponchartrain.    No. 

55. 

The  Lazy  Man.     No.  46. 
The  Little  Old  Sod  Shanty.    No. 

74. 

The  Lone  Prairie.     No.  78. 
The  Lover's  Return.     No.  30. 
The  Lowlands  Low.     No.  10. 
The   Man  That   Wouldn't   Hoe 

Corn.     No.  46. 
The  Milkmaid.     No.  112. 
The  Milwaukee  Fire.     No.  62. 
The  Old  Chisholm  Trail.     No. 

76. 

The  Old  Gray  Mule.     No.  103. 
The  Old  Man  in  the  North  Coun- 

tree.     No.  4. 
The     Preacher's     Legacy.     No. 

105. 

The  Prentice  Boy.     No.  31. 
The  Pretty  Milkmaid.     No.  112. 
The  Pretty  Mohea.     No.  91. 
The   Quaker's   Courtship.      No. 

108. 


The  Rich  Young  Farmer.     No. 

30. 

The  Silver  Dagger.     No.  52. 
The  Spanish  Cabineer.    No.  106. 
The  Soldier.     No.  27. 
The  Sweet  Fields  of  Violo.    No. 

120. 

The  Texas  Rangers.     No.  73. 
The  Three  Babes.     No.  7. 
The  Three,  Ballad  of  the.     No. 

No.  116. 

The  Three  Sailor  Boys.     No.  11. 
The  Two  Drummers.     No.  107. 
The  Two  Sisters.     No.  4. 
The  Weeping  Willow.     No.  43. 
The    Wife    Wrapt    in    Wether'a 

Skin.     No.  6. 
The  Wreck  of  the  Lady  Elgin. 

No.  60. 

The  Wren  Shooting.     No.  117. 
There  is  a  Tavern  in  the  Town. 

No.  24. 

Thomas,  Lord.     No.  12. 
Three,  Ballad  of  the.    No.  116. 
Three  Babes,  The.     No.  7. 
Three  Sailor  Boys,  The.     No.  11. 
Trail,  The  Old  Chisholm.     No. 

76. 

Tree,  The  Hawthorn.     No.  92. 
Two  Little  Boys.     No.  18. 
Two  Drummers,  The.     No.  107. 
Two  Sisters,  The.     No.  4. 
Turpin  and  the  Lawyer.    No.  70. 

Uncle  Tohido.     No.  53. 

Violo,  Sweet  Fields  of.    No.  120. 

Warren,  Fuller  and.     No.  49. 
Wedding,  The  Fatal.     No.  63. 
Weeping  Willow,  The.     No.  43. 
We'll  All  Go  Down  to  Rowser's. 

No.  119. 
Wells,  Kitty.     No.  94. 


266 


INDEX 


Wether's  Skin,  The  Wife  Wrapt 

In.     No.  6. 
What  Will  You  Give  Me  If  I 

Get  Up?     No.  110. 
Whoopee  Ti  Yi  Yo,  Git  Along 

Little  Dogies.     No.  80. 
Wicked  Polly.     No.  47. 
Wife,  I  Bought  Me  a.     No.  118. 
Wife  Wrapt  in  Wether's  Skin, 

The.     No.  6. 
Wild  Moor,  Mary  o'  the.     No. 

35. 

Will,  Common.     No.  104. 
Williams,  Jack.     No.  67. 
Willie,  Mary  and.     No.  21. 
Willie,  Mary  and.     No.  93. 


William  Reilly's  Courtship.    No. 

38. 

William,  Sweet.     No.  16. 
Willow,  The  Weeping.     No.  43. 
Wreck  of  the  Lady  Elgin,  The. 

No.  60. 
Woods,  The  Babes  in  the.     No. 

115. 
Woods,  Let's  Go  to  the.     No. 

117. 

Woodville  Mound.     No.  42. 
Wren  Shooting,  The.     No.  117. 


Young  Charlotte.     No.  44. 
Young  McFee.     No.  68. 


THE  MODERN 
STUDENT'S  LIBRARY 

Each  volume  edited  with  an  introduction  by  a  leading 
American  authority 


This  series  is  composed  of  such  works  as  are  conspicuous  in  the 
province  of  literature  for  their  enduring  influence.  Every  volume 
is  recognized  as  essential  to  a  liberal  education  and  will  tend  to  in 
fuse  a  love  for  true  literature  and  an  appreciation  of  the  qualities 
which  cause  it  to  endure. 


A  WEEK  ON  THE  CONCORD  AND 

MERRIMAC  RIVERS 
BY  HENRY  DAVID  THOREAU 

With  an  Introduction  by 
ODELL  SHEPARD 

Professor  of  English  at  Trinity  College 

"...  Here  was  a  man  who  stood  with  his  head  in  the  clouds, 
perhaps,  but  with  his  feet  firmly  planted  on  rubble  and  grit.  He 
was  true  to  the  kindred  points  of  Heaven  and  Home.  Thoreau's 
eminently  practical  thought  was  really  concerned,  in  the  last  anal 
ysis  with  definite  human  problems.  The  major  question  how  to  live 
was  at  the  end  of  all  his  vistas." 

EMERSON'S  ESSAYS 

Selected  and  edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by 
ARTHUR  HOBSON  QUINN 

Professor  of  English  and  Dean  of  the  College  University  of 
Pennsylvania 

*' Among  the  shifting  values  in  our  literary  history,  Emerson  stands 
secure.  As  a  people  we  are  rather  prone  to  underestimate  our  native 
writers  in  relation  to  English  and  continental  authors,  but  even 
among  those  who  have  been  content  to  treat  our  literature  as  a  by 
product  of  British  letters,  Emerson's  significance  has  become  only 
more  apparent  with  time." 


THE  MODERN  STUDENT'S  LIBRARY 

THE  ESSAYS  OF 
ADDISON  AND  STEELE 

Selected  and  edited  by 
WILL  D.  HOWE 

Professor  of  English  at  Indiana  University 

With  the  writings  of  these  two  remarkable  essayists  modern  prose 
began.  It  is  not  merely  that  their  style  even  to-day,  after  two  cen 
turies,  commands  attention,  it  is  equally  noteworthy  that  these 
men  were  among  the  first  to  show  the  possibilities  of  our  language 
in  developing  a  reading  public. 

BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN  AND 
JONATHAN  EDWARDS 

With  an  Introduction  by 
CARL  VAN  DOREN 

Franklin  and  Edwards  often  sharply  contrasted  in  thought  are, 
however,  in  the  main,  complimentary  to  each  other.  In  religion, 
Franklin  was  the  utilitarian,  Edwards  the  mystic.  Franklin  was 
more  interested  in  practical  morality  than  in  revelation;  Edwards 
sought  a  spiritual  exaltation  in  religious  ecstasy.  In  science  Frank 
lin  was  the  practical  experimenter,  Edwards  the  detached  observer, 
the  theoretical  investigator  of  causes. 

THE 
HEART  OF  MIDLOTHIAN 

BY  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 

With  an  Introduction  by 
WILLIAM  P.  TRENT 

Professor  of  English  at  Columbia  University 

Universally  admitted  one  of  the  world's  greatest  story-tellers, 
Scott  himself  considered  "The  Heart  of  Midlothian"  his  master 
piece,  and  it  has  been  accepted  as  such  by  most  of  his  admirers. 


THE  MODERN  STUDENTS  LIBRARY 

THE  ORDEAL  OF 
RICHARD  FEVEREL 

BY  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

With  an  Introduction  by 
FRANK  W.  CHANDLER 

Professor  of  English  at  the  University  of  Cincinnati 

"The  Ordeal  of  Richard  Feverel,"  published  in  1859,  was  Mere 
dith's  first  modern  novel  and  probably  his  best.  Certainly  it  was, 
and  has  remained,  the  most  generally  popular  of  all  this  author's 
books  and  among  the  works  of  its  type  it  stands  pre-eminent.  The 
story  embodies  in  the  most  beautiful  form  the  idea  that  in  life  the 
whole  truth  and  nothing  but  the  truth  is  best. 

MEREDITH'S 
ESSAY  ON  COMEDY 

With  an  Introduction,  Notes,  and  Biographical  Sketch  by 
LANE  COOPER 

Professor  of  English  at  Cornell  University 

"Good  comedies,"  Meredith  tells  us,  "are  such  rare  productions 
that,  notwithstanding  the  wealth  of  our  literature  in  the  comic 
element,  it  would  not  occupy  us  long  to  run  over  the  English  list." 

The  "Essay  on  Comedy"  is  in  a  peculiarly  intimate  way  the  ex 
position  of  Meredith's  attitude  toward  life  and  art.  It  helps  us  to 
understand  more  adequately  the  subtle  delicacies  of  his  novels. 

CRITICAL  ESSAYS  OF  THE 
NINETEENTH   CENTURY 

Selected  and  edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by 
RAYMOND  M.  ALDEN 

Professor  of  English  at  Leland  Stanford  University 

The  essays  in  this  volume  include  those  of  Wordsworth,  Copleston, 
Jeffrey,  Scott,  Coleridge,  Lockhart,  Lamb,  Hazlitt,  Byron,  Shelley. 
Newman,  DeQuincey,  Macaulay,  Wilson,  and  Hunt. 


THE  MODERN  STUDENTS  LIBRARY 

ENGLISH  POETS  OF  THE 
EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY 

Selected  and  Edited  by 
ERNEST  BERNBAUM 

Professor  of  English  at  the  University  of  Illinois 

The  great  age  of  the  eighteenth  century  is,  more  than  any  other, 
perhaps,  mirrored  in  its  poetry,  and  this  anthology  reveals  its  man 
ners  and  ideals. 

While  the  text  of  the  various  poems  is  authentic,  it  is  not  bur 
dened  with  scholastic  editing  and  marginal  comment.  The  collec 
tion  and  its  form  is  one  which  satisfies  in  an  unusual  way  the  in 
terest  of  the  general  reader  as  well  as  that  of  the  specialist. 

PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 
BY  JOHN  BUNYAN 

With  an  Introduction  and  Notes  by 
DR.  S.  M.  CROTHERS 

This  book  is  one  of  the  most  vivid  and  entertaining  in  the  English 
language,  one  that  has  been  read  more  than  any  other  in  our  lan 
guage,  except  the  Bible. 

PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE 
BY  JANE  AUSTEN 

W7ith  an  Introduction  by 
WILLIAM  DEAN  HOWELLS 

To  have  this  masterpiece  of  realistic  literature  introduced  by  so 
eminent  a  critic  as  William  Dean  Howells  is,  in  itself,  an  event  in 
the  literary  world.  We  cannot  better  comment  upon  the  edition 
than  by  quoting  from  Mr.  Howells's  introduction: 

He  says:  "When  I  came  to  read  the  book  the  tenth  or  fifteenth 
time  for  the  purposes  of  this  introduction,  I  found  it  as  fresh  as  when 
I  read  it  first  in  1889,  after  long  shying  off  from  it." 


THE  MODERN  STUDENT'S  LIBRARY 


NINETEENTH  CENTURY  LETTERS 

Selected  and  edited  by 
BYRON  JOHNSON  REES 

Professor  of  English  at  Williams  College 

Contains  letters  from  Blake,  Wordsworth,  Smith,  Southey,  Lamb, 
Irving,  Keats,  Emerson,  Lincoln,  Thackeray,  Huxley,  Meredith, 
"Lewis  Carroll,"  Phillips  Brooks,  Sidney  Lanier,  and  Stevenson. 

PAST  AND  PRESENT 
BY  THOMAS  CARLYLE 

With  an  Introduction  by 
EDWIN  W.  MIMS 

Professor  of  English  at  Vanderbilt  University 

"Past  and  Present,"  written  in  1843,  when  the  industrial  revolu 
tions  had  just  taken  place  in  England  and  when  democracy  and 
freedom  were  the  watchwords  of  liberals  and  progressives,  reads  like 
a  contemporary  volume  on  industrial  and  social  problems. 

BOSWELL'S  LIFE  OF  JOHNSON 

Abridged  and  edited,  with  an  Introduction  and  Notes,  by 
CHARLES  G.  OSGOOD 

Professor  of  English  at  Princeton  University 

Seldom  has  an  abridgment  been  made  with  as  great  skill  in  omit 
ting  nothing  vital  and  keeping  proper  proportions  as  this  edition  by 
Professor  Osgood. 

AMERICAN  BALLADS  AND  SONGS 

Collected  and  edited  by 
LOUISE  POUND 

Professor  of  English,  University  of  Nebraska 

An  anthology  intended  to  present  to  lovers  of  traditional  songs  such 
selections  as  illustrate  the  main  classics  and  types  having  currency  in 
English-speaking  North  America.  It  includes  a  number  of  imported 
ballads  and  songs,  Western  songs,  dialogue  and  nursery  songs,  etc. 


THE  MODERN  STUDENTS  LIBRARY 
BACON'S  ESSAYS 

Selected,  with  an  Introduction  and  Notes,  by 
MARY  AUGUSTA  SCOTT 

Late  Professor  of  English  Literature  at  Smith  College 

These  essays,  the  distilled  wisdom  of  a  great  observer  upon  the 
affairs  of  common  life,  are  of  endless  interest  and  profit.  The  more 
one  reads  them  the  more  remarkable  seem  their  compactness  and 
their  vitality. 

ADAM  BEDE 

BY  GEORGE  ELJOT 

With  an  Introduction  by 
LAURA  J.  WYLIE 

Professor  of  English  at  Vassar  College 

With  the  publication  of  "Adam  Bede"  in  1859,  it  was  evident 
both  to  England  and  America  that  a  great  novelist  had  appeared. 
"Adam  Bede"  is  the  most  natural  of  George  Eliot's  books,  simple 
in  problem,  direct  in  action,  with  the  freshness  and  strength  of  the 
Derbyshire  landscape  and  character  and  speech  in  its  pages. 


THE  RING  AND  THE  BOOK 
BY  ROBERT  BROWNING 

With  an  Introduction  by 
FREDERICK  MORGAN  PADELFORD 

Professor  of  English  at  Washington  University 

"  'The  Ring  and  the  Book,'  "  says  Dr.  Padelford  in  his  introduc 
tion,  "is  Browning's  supreme  literary  achievement.  It  was  written 
after  the  poet  had  attained  complete  mastery  of  his  very  individual 
style;  it  absorbed  his  creative  activity  for  a  prolonged  period;  and  it 
issued  with  the  stamp  of  his  characteristic  genius  on  every  page." 


THE  MODERN  STUDENT'S  LIBRARY 

ROBERT  LOUIS  STEVENSON'S 

ESSAYS 

With  an  Introduction  by 
WILLIAM  LYON  PHELPS 

Professor  of  English  at  Yale  University 

This  volume  includes  not  only  essays  in  formal  literary  criticism, 
but  also  of  personal  monologue  and  gossip,  as  well  as  philosophical 
essays  on  the  greatest  themes  that  can  occupy  the  mind  of  man.  All 
reveal  the  complex,  whimsical,  humorous,  romantic,  imaginative, 
puritanical  personality  now  known  everywhere  by  the  formula 
R.  L.  S. 

PENDENNIS 
BY  THACKERAY 

With  an  Introduction  by 
ROBERT  MORSS  LOVETT 

Professor  of  English  at  the  University  of  Chicago 

"Pendennis"  stands  as  a  great  representative  of  biographical 
fiction  and  reflects  more  of  the  details  of  Thackeray's  life  than  all 
his  other  writings.  Of  its  kind  there  is  probably  no  more  interesting 
book  in  our  literature. 

THE 
RETURN  OF  THE  NATIVE 

BY  THOMAS  HARDY 

With  an  Introduction  and  Notes  by 
JOHN  W.  CUNLIFFE 

Professor  of  English  at  Columbia  University 

"The  Return  of  the  Native"  is  probably  Thomas  Hardy's  great 
tragic  masterpiece.  It  carries  to  the  highest  perfection  the  rare 
genius  of  the  finished  writer.  It  presents  in  the  most  remarkable 
way  Hardy's  interpretation  of  nature  in  which  there  is  a  perfect 
unison  between  the  physical  world  and  the  human  character. 


THE  MODERN  STUDENT'S  LIBRARY 


SELECTIONS  FROM 
"THE  FEDERALIST" 

Edited  with  an  Introduction  by 
JOHN  SPENCER  BASSETT 

Professor  of  History  in  Smith  College 

A  careful  and  discriminating  selection  of  the  "Essays  written  vi 
favor  of  the  new  constitution,  as  agreed  upon  by  the  federal  con 
vention,  September  17,  1787." 

HISTORICAL  ESSAYS 
BY  LORD  MACAULAY 

Selected  with  an  Introduction  by 
CHARLES  DOWNER  HAZEN 

Professor  of  History  at  Columbia  University 

A  group  of  the  better-known  historical  essays  which  includes  "John 
Hampden,"  "William  Pitt,"  "The  Earl  of  Chatham,"  "Lord  Clive," 
"Warren  Hastings,"  "Machiavelli,"  and  "Frederick  the  Great." 


SARTOR  RESARTUS 

BY  THOMAS  CARLYLE 

Edited  with  an  Introduction  by 
ASHLEY  THORNDIKE 

Professor  of  English  at  Columbia  University 

This  ''Nonsense  on  Clothes,"  as  Carlyle  referred  to  it  in  one  entry 
of  his  journal,  reaches  into  all  the  human  realm  and  is  perhaps  tie 
greatest  philosophical  expression  of  Carlyle's  genius.  Surely  there 
is  a  power  of  pure  thought  which  he  has  put  into  the  mind  of  Pro 
fessor  Tempelsdroch  and  a  charm  of  words  which  he  has  given  him 
to  speak  which  he  has  nowhere  surpassed. 

A  glossary  in  this  edition  will  be  of  invaluable  service  to  the 
student. 


THE  MODERN  STUDENTS  LIBRARY 

EVAN  HARRINGTON 

BY  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

With  an  Introduction  by 
GEORGE  G.  REYNOLDS 

Professor  of  English  Literature,  University  of  Colorado 

Evan  Harrington,  one  of  the  greatest  demonstrations  of  George 
Meredith's  genius,  is  an  ironic  comment  on  English  society  and  man 
ners  in  the  latter  part  of  the  last  century,  done  with  amazing  pene 
tration  and  the  best  of  his  humor.  In  the  large,  it  reflects  the  strug 
gle  between  spiritual  and  moral  ideals  which  was  constantly  going  on 
;n  Meredith's  mind  and  which  ends  in  the  triumph  of  the  spirit  of 
sacrifice. 

THE  MASTER  OF  BALLANTRAE 

BY  ROBERT  Louis  STEVENSON 

With  an  Introduction  by 
H.  S.  CANBY 

Formerly  Professor  of  English  Literature  at  Yale  University,  and 
present  editor  of  the  New  York  Evening  Post  Literary  Review 

Here  is  one  of  the  most  absorbing  of  Stevenson's  romances,  full  of 
the  spice  of  adventure  and  exciting  incident,  the  thrill  of  danger  and 
the  chill  of  fear;  it  is,  beside,  a  powerful  and  subtle  study  of  Scotch 
character  of  different  types,  and  brings  into  being  one  of  the  most 
amazing  of  all  the  dramatis  personse  of  romantic  fiction. 

POEMS  AND  PLAYS 

BY  ROBERT  BROWNING 

Selected  with  an  Introduction  and  Notes  by 
HEWLETTE  ELWELL  JOYCE 

Assistant  Professor  of  English  in  Dartmouth  College 

A  volume  intended  for  the  student  or  less-advanced  reader  of 
Browning  who  does  not  require  a  complete  edition.  The  introduction 
suggests  an  approach  to  Browning,  points  out  such  difficulties  as  often 
perplex  one  who  reads  Browning  for  the  first  time,  and  states  simply 
a  few  of  the  poet's  fundamental  ideas. 


THE  MODERN  STUDENT'S  LIBRARY 


RUSKIN'S 
SELECTIONS  AND  ESSAYS 

With  an  Introduction  by 
FREDERICK  WILLIAM  ROE 

Assistant  Professor  of  English  at  University  of  Wisconsin 
"Ruskin,"  said  John  Stuart  Mill,  "was  one  of  the  few  men  in 
Europe  who  seemed  to  draw  what  he  said  from  a  source  within  him 
self."^  Carlyle  delighted  in  the  "fierce  lightning  bolts"  that  Ruskin 
was  copiously  and  desperately  pouring  into  the  black  world  of 
anarchy  all  around  him." 

The  present  volume,  by  its  wide  selection  from  Ruskin's  writings 
affords  an  unusual  insight  into  this  remarkable  man's  interests  a, .d 
character. 

THE   SCARLET  LETTER 
BY  NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE 

With  an  Introduction  by 
STUART  P.  SHERMAN 

Professor  of  English  at  University  of  Illinois 

,'Tne.  S,carlet  T  ter'  appears  to  be  as  safe  from  competitors 
as  'Pilgrim's  Process'  or  'Robinson  Crusoe.'  It  is  recognized  as 
the  classical  treatment  of  its  particular  theme.  Its  symbols  and 
scenes  of  guilt  and  penitence— the  red  letter  on  the  breast  of  Hester 
Prynne,  Arthur  Dimmesdale  on  the  scaffold— have  fixed  themselves 
in  the  memory  of  men  like  the  figure  of  Crusoe  bending  over  the 
footprints  in  the  sand,  and  have  become  a  part  of  the  common  stock 
of  images  like  Christian  facing  the  lions  in  the  way. 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

PUBLISHERS  NEW  YORK 


TO  DESK  FROM 

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